Life in the Shadows
by DaniDM
Summary: Part 3 Follow the adventures of Daniella from her years at Oxford to the battle of Hogwarts. Does she reconciliate with Severus? Does she find love elsewhere? Or will the pain of losing those she loves destroy her? R&R please.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The nightmares began again. Green flashes illuminated the dark sky. Flames licked the wooden walls, filling the heavens with sparks, and billowing, choking smoke. The stench of spellfire clung to the crisp night air. Assorted images from a variety of events blended together to create a new and even more horrific dream than the last. In this, a small, dark-eyed boy was violently flung across a crowded room of blank-faced people while a green-eyed boy cried helplessly in his crib; no one moved to help either. Reflections of an Italian, stone cottage and a wooden, English Tudor merged to create a stone-faced Tudor crumbling to the flames. Wisps of filthy, greasy air drew upward and outward from the ruins, an essence of pure evil escaping the disaster.

The anger and pain was overwhelming, and I gasped as my eyes shot open, and I struggled to breathe. My heart pounded in my ears as sweat trickled from my forehead, soaking into the pillow. I rolled onto my back and stared at the dull ceiling of my dorm room, trying to control my breathing. I hated the thought of having to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion again, but if the nightmares persisted, I may not have a choice.

It was right before dawn, and the grey of the night was giving itself to slivers of the rising sun that could be seen casting lines around the window's edge. If I went back to sleep now, the dream would only continue. I knew that from experience, so I lay there in the grey November dawn, gathering my resolve to get through another day.

The war had been over for just over a year. Voldemort was gone, and life was becoming comfortable once again, a comfort that had not been felt for many years. People hailed the miraculous survival of a small child and were peacefully lulled into a sense of complacency. But, there were still aspects of life that were difficult. Things had not gone as planned. Mistakes had been made, and lives had been lost or changed forever. Blame was issued, and guilt and betrayal were felt. And, we all had a hand in it.

Severus had joined the Hogwarts' staff as designed, strongly requesting the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, knowing that another fight would be imminent. But, Albus felt that his desire for revenge was too great and feared that it might hinder the efforts of the Order. He was given the post of Potions Master instead, an assignment that no one would question.

But, Severus was unhappy, dissatisfied with the way things were playing out. The pull from both sides was overwhelming at times, and he became consumed with anger and began to close himself off. He sought any excuse to formulate his own plan.

An opportunity arose, that previous fall, during an applicant's interview for a teaching position at the Hog's Head Inn. Severus had been drowning himself in Firewhiskey when he saw Albus furtively arrive. Suspicious, he followed the Headmaster upstairs and listened at the keyhole, ashamed at lowering himself to such actions, but his heart pounding wildly at the information. This could be what he needed to lure the Dark Lord into drastic action. Little did he realize, or care, that the plan would affect so many lives.

However, on the night that he had arranged to meet the Dark Lord and relay the information, a prophecy, he had second thoughts, staying in his chambers at Hogwarts, staring into the darkness of his room. Breaking the solitary silence, a heavy knock sounded on his door, and Albus' anxious voice called out. Tragedy had struck, and they were needed immediately. Without thinking, Severus was on his feet and joined his mentor on the way to Godric's Hollow. Someone else had betrayed the Potters. It hadn't him after all.

By the time Albus and Severus arrived, the damage had been done. The upper floor of the two-story, English Tudor had one side blown out, James and Lily Potter were dead, and their son, Harry, had somehow, survived. Salt in Severus' wounds, his nemesis' son surviving when his own had perished not that long ago. The constriction in Severus' chest choked him.

In the chaos of the night, the essence of the Dark Lord lingered above the ruins; both Albus and Severus sensed it, and Severus' quickly began to track it, working to keep it away from the child, but it escaped. Albus took the child and placed it in the protective care of Hogwarts' grounds keeper who was instructed to take young Harry to a safe hiding place; a family bond being used as a safeguard. Albus would meet him there later. He had something else to do first.

As time passed, Severus felt the guilt of what he had intended to do. James Potter was not his friend, never had been, but Lily had been at one time, and the thought of the orphaned boy bothered his conscience. Callously, he admonished himself, squashing sentimental thoughts into nothing, using Occlumency as a shield to protect himself from his emotions. It wasn't his fault. Voldemort already knew. Someone else had betrayed them, and that blame was, surprisingly, cast on Sirius Black, James' best friend. Witnesses had seen Black fight and kill Peter Pettigrew following the attack on the Potters. Muggles had perished in the crossfire, and nothing but a finger was left of poor Peter. Black had been captured and sent to Azkaban, insanity setting in shortly thereafter.

Voldemort disappeared after that night, but Albus and Severus maintained that, although he may be gone, he wasn't dead. He would, some day, find a way to return, but the Wizard world was too preoccupied with celebration and renewed hopes for the future to listen. Albus and Severus finally turned silent, knowing that their roles would have to continue.

The Ministry spend months rounding up rogue Death Eaters and spent the following year trying them in the Wizengamot. Severus himself had been called on charges, and Albus stood by his side, defending him, revealing to all that, although Severus had admittedly been a Death Eater, he had turned spy for the Ministry: a horrible, double-edged sword. And, although his name had been cleared, his position had been exposed, and the life of a double agent took on a new dimension. His Slytherin mind quickly created a web of lies to hide his true allegiances. His demeanour turned even more foul as he struggled to stay alive, and Occlumency and his Reversal Glamour Charm became a way of life. There were still Death Eaters out there, many who were able to feign their innocence by claiming that they were under the Imperious Curse. He would never be safe.

My role would remain a secret…for now. But I, too, felt the guilt and pain and a strong desire for revenge.


	2. Chapt 1 Oxford

**1 – Oxford**

"Miss Di Marco!"

A deep, male voice boomed through the cavernous lecture hall, shattering my daydream.

"If you do not see fit to pay attention, if you deem this topic beneath you or, most likely, if you feel that you are out of your league, then you are most welcome to remove yourself from my class!"

The rest of the students turned in fearful silence as they watched the most dreaded lecturer on campus challenge yet another student. Professor Kurtz was an average-looking, middle-aged man, standing no more than five foot eight, with greying blonde hair, and a thin, pocked face. His disfiguring scowl only changed to a sneer when he was belittling and humiliating his students, which happened on a regular basis, often bringing the female victims, and the occasional sensitive male victim, to tears.

I turned my head slowly toward the offending instructor, raising my chin in quiet defiance.

"I'm listening," I said in a calm, low voice, my eyes connecting with his, refusing to break contact.

He huffed at my insolence, and his neck began to turn red. I could see the vein on his left temple begin to bulge as he started to pace the scuffed, tile floor, his head bent, and his right hand held high in the air, shaking a finger at the ceiling.

"You may be the toast of the Pharmacology Department, Miss Di Marco, but you have much to learn in Biochemistry. If you were listening, which I doubt, then explain to the class what an intracellular transmitter is. No one here seems to have done the prescribed reading for today's lesson, and I grow tired of repeating myself. So, Miss Di Marco," he continued condescendingly, turning dramatically to head back to my desk, "dazzle us with your brilliance, or is it time for you to change Options? Fear not. I have a pen ready. I'll eagerly sign any necessary documents," he taunted as he pulled a felt pen from his breast pocket, waving it in my direction.

The round lecture room had eight rows of small desks positioned on an incline, facing a lecture podium and chalkboard. There were no windows, and the lighting was dull, favouring the podium and the professor like a spotlight. I sat in the third row, and when he returned to stand before me, we were nearly eye-to-eye.

"An intracellular transmitter is a natural protein found in the brain that regulates the dynamics of the cytoskeletal molecules, in turn determining cell morphology. There are, presently, very few studies being done on these transmitters as they rely on the study of the intracellular signalling process and cellular organization, two other fields sorely lacking in research. In short, intracellular transmitters determine how cells grow and change." I knew that I shouldn't aggravate this professor as I would probably need his help in the future, but, short of hexing him, which I was often tempted to do, my intelligence and tongue were my only methods of self-defence.

He stood before me, eyes unwavering. The packed class was silent, practically holding their breath, waiting for the explosion to occur. Surprisingly, it didn't. He merely huffed again, furrowing his brow, and as he opened his mouth to speak, the bell rang signalling the end of class. Panicked students virtually ran for the exit. Quickly gathering my books and stuffing them into my black, leather rucksack, I swung it onto my shoulder and headed down the stairs to the door. As I passed the lecture room floor, the professor scowled in my direction, his lank hair falling into his face as he leaned against the dais, shoulders hunched and arms folded across his thin chest, watching me leave. A flash of memory made my lips twitch upward slightly as I passed him, which only served to deepen his frown. I'd been scowled at by the best. Oh, how I missed Severus.

"You've got guts!" A voice emerged from a gathering of students at the far end of the corridor.

"You're going to get yourself thrown out of his class if you keep that up," another student chided.

"He can't throw me out for correctly answering his question, and he can't throw me out for not liking me," I calmly replied as I approached the group.

"True, but he can make life very difficult for you," added Emily, a tall brunette who had a dorm room on the same floor as me.

I shrugged, as I passed the crowd, not really caring what people thought. Although, I suppose I wouldn't have gotten in trouble had I been paying attention. Intracellular transmitting systems did sound interesting, and my mind was actually formulating possibilities. Contrary to the professor's accusation, I had done the required reading as well as researched the topic as much as I could on my own. My brain had gone into overdrive as he spoke, and I had been daydreaming about how this topic would work in conjunction with Belby's lycanthrope studies. I was starting to see connections between cell morphology and a werewolf's monthly change before I was interrupted. Could there be something in the signalling process that could be altered? I needed to get back to my room and write down as much as I could remember. I wanted to put together a good theory to present to Belby at our next meeting. I also thought that since there was such little research on this topic, it would make a great doctoral thesis, but I feared that I would have to approach the man I'd just offended in order to get authorization.

I was about half way down the corridor, heading toward the exit, when I felt a focused surge of energy coming in my direction from the rear. Automatically raising a Protective Shield, I continued my path. The energy divided and approached on either side, brushing against my arms and yelping as they received a mild static shock.

"Geez, woman! Can't I ever touch you without getting zapped?" exclaimed the force on my right as he rubbed his left forearm.

"I should have known better," Emily said, ruefully, as she rubbed her right elbow.

Emily had befriended me during my first days at the university. Her room was a few doors down from mine, and we shared a number of classes. She was a pretty girl, tall and lanky with long chestnut hair and big brown eyes. She once joked that she was more leg than body at which point her boyfriend, Colin, readily agreed with a roguish grin. He was about a head shorter than her with a slight build and unruly, strawberry blonde hair. Apparently, Emily and Colin had been an "item" since their freshman year as undergraduates. Both were studying medicine, but only Colin had the desire to become a doctor, a paediatrician to be exact. Emily was attracted to research as her sister suffered from cystic fibrosis. She had a personal interest in finding a cure. Both were friendly and encouraged me to socialize more. They thought that I was a bit too reclusive and needed to "lighten up".

"We're heading to the Red Lion. Want to come?" Colin invited enthusiastically, winking at Emily.

I don't know why they persisted. They would invite me. I would decline. They would insist. I would resign myself to either going for a little while or joining them later. That would be tonight's choice.

"Sure," I said. "What time are you heading out?"

"Oh, not for about an hour," Emily sighed as she snuggled close to Colin. "Why don't we swing by your room and pick you up?"

"How about I meet you there? I have some work to do first."

"Don't you ever stop working?" Colin admonished, rolling his eyes and wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's waist. "I took one class this summer, and I think you managed a full load. Why are you pushing yourself?"

"I have my reasons," I explained simply as we continued toward the exit.

The three of us strolled the paved path back to the dorms, and Emily and Colin dropped me off at my door, then headed towards Emily's room. I sighed inwardly as I watched the lovebirds. I didn't have to guess what they were going to do during that hour.

Releasing the wards to my quarters, I opened the door and sighed heavily as I entered. _Peace at last_. A flick of my right hand and a silent _"Lumos" _lit the trio of votive candles on the small wooden dresser on the opposite wall near the window; a slight scent of orange began to fill the air. The room was small with cream coloured walls and light blue bedding and curtains. A simple, three-quarter bed stood against the far left wall near the tall rectangular window, while a table served as a desk on the right wall near the bathroom. I stood in the doorway and shed my rucksack and jacket, kicking off my shoes in the process, leaving it all in a heap on the floor. My mind was reeling. Making myself a cup of lemon tea, I opened a blue and brass-bound notebook on the makeshift desk. Scanning the contents and finding a clean page, I sat and began to write my thoughts on how I believed intracellular transmitting systems may have an effect on cell morphology in werewolves. How I could work this into a Muggle thesis paper was still under consideration, but I had a strong feeling about this theory. Somehow, I knew I was right.

The late afternoon sun had set and the moon rose before I lifted my head from the notebook. I had lost myself in the work again. Wiggling my cramped fingers and rotating my wrist, I turned to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly eight thirty. I had missed dinner again and had told Emily and Colin that I would meet them. Arching my back as I rose and stretching my arms above my head, I toddled stiffly to the bathroom to wash up.

The Red Lion Pub on Godstow Road, just off of High Street, was a common hang out for the graduate students. It had an elegant air to it but was still very much a college pub, serving great food as well as a good pint of beer. Dressed in my usual black jeans, I had donned a dark green turtleneck jumper and a short, black, leather jacket. Entering the crowded establishment, I scanned the mass for my friends. Locating them at a small table in the back corner, surrounded by a few classmates, I worked my way through the throng, and as I approached, was unceremoniously pushed toward by some rowdies and nearly landed in Colin's lap. He looked up with a slightly intoxicated grin.

"Well, I'll be buggered. You actually came." His words were slurred as he gazed up at me. "Russell, pull up a chair for our workaholic friend," he commanded to a robust, dark-haired man at the table. "Rosy," he shouted to the barmaid, "a pint for this poor, hard-working woman and a bowl of munchies. I bet she skipped dinner."

Emily rolled her blurry eyes at me apologetically as I sat in the newly procured chair.

"Hello, luv," Colin exhaled sweetly as he leaned forward and took hold of my arm. "I want you to meet Russell. He's a mate of mine from way back. Russ, this is Daniella. The only student I know with balls enough to face off with Kurtz. Emily told me what happened in class today." He clarified as he patted my arm and nodded to his girlfriend.

I held my hand out in greeting. "Hello, Russell." My once heavy Italian accent had softened with the constant use and exposure to English. It sounded almost sultry.

Russell's brown eyes glowed in the dim light of the pub. "Pleased to meet you," he replied as he took my hand in his large grip.

Colin made an obvious wink to Emily who grinned widely.

The following two weeks passed in a blur. End-of-term papers were being issued and lab reports needed to be done. Christmas exams were approaching, and I had run another "errand" for Albus up in the Lake District. After a particularly tough day, I sought the solitude of my chambers. Warding the room and casting a Silencing Charm, I lit several candles letting the soothing smell of hamamelis relax my nerves. Even in my little cubby, I was able to make potions for my needs. I just had to be a bit creative as to when, where and how. As I comfortably sat on a cushy area rug in the centre of the room, breathing deeply and beginning to unwind, I felt the ward and charm being violently disturbed. Releasing the Silencing Charm, an earnest knock sounded loudly on the door, disrupting my peace.

"Daniella! Come on! Open up! We need to talk!"

The knock sounded again before I could unfold myself from the lotus position that I had gotten myself into. Crawling at first and finally rising to my feet, I grabbed the door handle and hauled myself upright as the nuisance on the other side started to bang once more. I knew the voice but hoped I wouldn't have to deal with it today. I should have kept the charm up.

"Daniella! Open…" Emily's intense expression changed to flustered as I swung the door open and met her face to face. "Finally! I thought I would have to break it down. What's with you? What does he have to do to get your attention?" she ranted.

I ushered her into the room, with a silent wave on my hand, to avoid the curious onlookers gathering in the corridor. Dorm gossip was always on the rampage, and I had no desire to be a part of it.

"Russell is a nice guy. He's smart, courteous, sweet. He's invited you to dinner, to movies, for walks in the park, for library dates…I don't understand, and I'm tired of being in the middle!" She strode into the room and stopped in front of the dresser before turning around.

My brows furrowed: in the middle? She read my expression.

"Russ complains to Colin. Colin complains to me, and now I'm relegated to finding out what he's doing wrong. He likes you, Daniella, and he's trying to show you. You work too hard. You're too serious. You need a man in your life. Why don't you let him in? Let him… "sweep you off your feet"."

My eyebrows and lips turned upward in silent amusement, but I said nothing as she lowered herself onto the edge of my bed.

"What is it you don't like? He's tall, not bad-looking, build like a bloody brick. He's intelligent enough to hold a descent conversation with. I just don't get it?" She paused for a moment, then suddenly gasped, "No! You're…ah…not into…ah…women, are you? Oh, God!" Emily turned bright red, leapt from the bed, and buried her face in her hands.

I laughed out loud at her predicament and raised my hand as I shook my head. "Fear not, I don't prefer women," I explained through the giggles.

She lifted her head and looked at me incredulously. "Do you realize that's the first time since we've met that I've actually heard you laugh?"

I regarded her with a smile as she lowered her hands and calmly sat back down.

"Do you realize that this is the first time since we've met that you've been in my room?" I asked.

She smiled bashfully as she took in the sparsely furnished quarters. There were no family pictures, no pictures at all for that matter, not even a painting. The bookcase beside the table had numerous texts and tomes, supplies of notepaper and notebooks as well as a box full of pens. There were a few curious items that caught her attention; my quill set being one and the number of lit candles being another. She was particularly drawn to the votive trio that sat on my dresser. The crystal holders were individually etched, each with a goddess symbol: waxing, full and waning moons. They had been an anniversary gift from Severus during our second year, and one of the few things that had been saved from the fire.

"Do you want some tea?" I asked kindly as I rose to reach for the kettle.

"Yes, thanks. Those are beautiful," she pointed to the trio set. "Where did you get them?"

"They were a gift," I replied as I filled the pot with water in the bathroom sink.

"I'm sorry I burst in. I really don't understand. I like you, and I want to see you happy. Russell seems nice, and Colin and I thought you two would get along," she began explaining.

I returned to the room and sat on a padded chair across from her, waiting for the water to boil and trying to determine what to say. I could use magic to get her to drop the subject but that would leave me to deal with Colin and Russell. It may be easier to give her a highly edited version of events, just enough for her to understand my feelings and to leave it alone. I sighed, and it brought her attention back to me.

"I agree. Russell is a nice person, and I appreciate that you and Colin are concerned for my happiness, but there is something you don't know."

"Obviously," she uttered under her breath, waiting for me to continue.

"I won't go into details, and you must respect that I don't want to have it repeated, not even to Colin." Emily's brow creased, but she solemnly nodded her consent. "I'm married," I stated flatly, watching her jaw drop. I took a deep breath and matter-of-factly continued. "Circumstances have pulled us apart for the moment, but I hold hope to be with him again. I have no desire to be with anyone else."

"Why is this a secret?" she asked with stunned curiosity.

"It's complicated, and it's personal… and it's painful," I stated with a cheerless expression. "I tend to bury myself in my work to keep me from thinking about it, but also, because the quicker I get this done, the quicker things may return to normal. Do you understand?"

She nodded again, looking very poignant. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"About six months ago, and it was only for an evening." I had last seen Severus at a Society meeting in the summer. We had kept our distance and said very little, both knowing that although Voldemort may be gone for now, some of his followers were still out there. We understood the importance of keeping up appearance, but it hurt to not be able to reach out.

"He's not in prison, is he? Do you write or call?"

"No, he's not in prison." A fleeting smile crossed my face, then promptly left. My heart thudded in my chest. He could very well have ended up there had Albus not stood up for him. "And no, unfortunately, I have no communication with him at all." My eyes began to mist, and I was glad that the water was ready for tea. I rose and continued, "I really don't want to talk about this, and if you must tell Colin something, tell him that I already have someone in my life, but please, go no further. Milk? Sugar?" I quickly changed the subject, and with my back to my guest, shielding my actions, I transfigured an inkwell into a creamer and a quill into sugar cubes and signalled that the tea was ready.

I felt her rise behind me and gently place her hand on my back. "I won't tell, but if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. "Grazie," and for the next hour we sat sipping tea and complaining about the number of papers that were due.


	3. Chapt 2 Holiday Cheer

**2 – Holiday Cheer**

The one thing I missed at this time of year was the snow. In my little village in Tuscany, at the base of the Italian Alps, the snow was crisp and clean and sparkled like faerie lights as it floated to the ground. When it snowed in England, at least where I was, it wasn't often, and it was wet and slushy and grey, not very pleasant, and it made me homesick.

Exams ended a few days ago, and most students headed home to their families for the holidays. Emily had invited me to visit hers, but I declined. There was a Yule celebration at the Society of Potions Masters Manor House on the twenty-first, and I had an appointment to meet with Belby on the twenty-seventh. There was some potions work that I wanted to keep up with, and a new advancement for the Experimental and Medicinal Potions lab at the Italian Ministry to look into. My old supervisor kept in touch occasionally and had made a personal request. How could I refuse? Plus, I had one term left in the Masters of Science program and needed to begin formulating my doctoral thesis for sanction. And, of course, there was Albus, who always had something for me to do. I wondered what it would be this time.

The Society's Manor House was brightly lit with frosted orbs that led from the Apparition Gardens to the main entrance. Every window facing the garden was framed with evergreen bows and red holly berries, and each was alight with a single radiant candle. An enchanted snow fell lightly to the ground making the structure appear to glow. Festive juniper wreaths hung on the heavy front doors of the pristine white estate and both doors were thrown open, the merry sound of chatter and music filling the night air.

With most of the students gone from campus for the holidays, it was easy to slip out dressed in formal Wizard robes. My midnight blue gown bustled gracefully around the ankles as I walked toward Radcliffe Camera. The deep V-neck and princess bodice framed my mother's silver and sapphire drop necklace and earring set beautifully. It had been in the Goblin's bank on the Strada di Stegra in Wizard Rome instead of in the cottage where I had lived, thus was safe from the disaster. As part of my "life's change" when I left Italy for England, I had cut off my long hair in favour of a shoulder length page. It was charmed back and away from my face with sparkling clips. I rather liked the cut as it was easier to manage.

Apparating from the west side of the Camera, I arrived in the glittering Tulip Garden with several other guests. My Vagueness Charm had, over the years, become like a piece of clothing. When I rose in the morning, it went on, almost before my socks. Checking it and nodding a greeting to a wizard and a witch with whom I was distantly acquainted, I headed toward the reception. Climbing the sweeping flagstone steps, I entered the building and was immediately welcomed by a smiling, pink-eared house elf. Shaking the snow from my cloak, I folded it neatly and handed it to the creature.

"Merry Meet and Happy Yule," I greeted the elf with a friendly smile.

"And, to you, Mistress" the elf returned with a low bow. "Pinky is very glad to see Mistress. Pinky will serve Mistress tonight, if that is to your pleasin'."

"I would be honoured." I gave a slight bow to the elf whose eyes grew as big as tennis balls. Pinky was flustered, not knowing how to reply. No one had ever bowed to a house elf before, and no one ever claimed to be "honoured" by one, of that, she was sure.

I smiled and crouched to meet the shocked elf eye-to-eye. "I like you, Pinky, and it pleases me that you will serve me tonight."

A wide, toothy grin appeared on the elf's face as she bowed again and quickly disappeared clutching my cloak to her chest.

Rising and heading toward the crowded reception room, I met Chairwizard Castwell and Master Whitherling in the doorway. I smiled pleasantly as Castwell gripped my hand.

"Mistress Di Marco," he breathed as the back of my hand was lifted to his lips. "I am delighted to see you. This is a night to enjoy," he wagged a finger at me. "So I want you to relax and forget everything else for a while. Although, I must ask, how is school going? Are you nearly finished?"

"Good evening, gentlemen," I replied to both men with a sociable smile. "School is going well, Sir." I directed my attention toward the Chairwizard, the man who had entrusted me with making antidotes for Voldemort's "viruses" during the war. "I have one term left in my Masters of Science degree and have applied for my doctorate. I will be presenting my thesis topic after the holiday. If it's accepted, I hope to begin in the summer."

"Muggle Studies," huffed a rather hefty wizard who had sidled by. "I've heard of your theories, Mistress. Are Wizard ways not good enough for you? They have been in use much longer than any Muggle method."

"Now, Horace. Mistress Di Marco is merely exploring alternative ways to advance our methods. If applying Muggle technologies helps us cure our own, then why shouldn't we explore the possibilities?" Master Whitherling defended me while I silently fumed at my former Potions teacher. In school, he had taken advantage of his position over Severus and me, presenting an advancement that we had created to the Ministry of Magic and reaping the rewards. With my Vagueness Charm, he didn't recognize to whom he was speaking.

"I suppose," Master Slughorn admitted absently as he spied a house elf with a food platter. "Waste of time if you ask me. Wizards' way is so much better," he added dismissively as he intercepted the elf with the tray and began devouring the contents.

"Ignore him," Master Whitherling advised as he turned back to me. "He's a pompous, old fart. Far too interested in what he can get from others to be concerned with how to actually help them. So Slytherin. Used to teach at Hogwarts but has since retired. You know, I was surprised to see who replaced him. Master Snape." He paused to gage my reaction. When I didn't respond, he continued. "Do you remember him? I believe you two met in Italy several years ago when he apprenticed with me. I fully expected him to continue in research as you have, not turn to teaching. What a waste of talent." He became pensive for a moment. "I suppose an experience with You-Know-Who would change the direction of any man's life, though. I wonder if he'll be here tonight. Doesn't often come to these things." Whitherling quickly glanced around the room, then leaned in to whisper. "Foul temperament that seems to have gotten worse over the past year. I pity those poor children in his charge."

Master Whitherling rambled on for a few more minutes while my eyes scanned the crowd. If Severus was going to show up, I'd better be ready.

Moving further into the room, I joined the odd conversation here and there. It felt good to reacquaint with my old colleagues, some of whom I hadn't seen in months, some for more than a year. I had missed last year's celebration, having been on an "errand" for Albus, and also, not being in much of a mood to celebrate. I agreed with Albus and Severus and didn't believe that Voldemort was truly gone. Strange rumours had come from Sherwood, and my empathic abilities made me the prime candidate for finding out what was wrong. I remembered the darkness of the nights and the cold, empty feeling of fear and loneliness. I began to shudder as a slight nudge woke me from my memory.

"Mistress is needin' food." Pinky was at my elbow with a delectable plate of assorted hors d'œuvres.

I took the proffered plate and thanked the diminutive elf, tasting a miniature quiche. "Delicious," I praised as the elf blushed and bowed away.

Turning to ease my way toward a row of spindly looking chairs by the far wall, I was accosted with a slobbering kiss to the cheek.

"Happy Yule!" the feisty old wizard chimed as he raised his finger upward. I looked in the direction to find a roaming sprig of mistletoe flitting about the room, sporadically stopping over an unsuspecting witch's head. The elegance of the evening was temporarily waylaid by the wizards' attempts to follow the sprig to be the first to kiss the unwary witch before the greenery moved on. I sat to the side watching with amusement until the sprig landed over my head again. Attempting to avoid the line beginning to form, I cursed it for staying so long. After the third soggy kiss on the cheek, the mistletoe was still not moving, and the crowd of aging wizards grew.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Who charmed this thing? I think the charm's worn off!" I raised my hands in half-mocking despair, trying to shoo the greenery away.

The wizards chuckled at their luck, but the crowd parted as a tall, black-clad Master made his way through. His dark, hooded eyes and deep scowl were enough to send most on their way, but as he approached, a wizard, whom I always tried to avoid at these functions, piped up.

"Well, Snape. Your turn to have a go, is it?" His leering laugh was grating.

"I think not," Severus replied scathingly as drew his wand and blasted the offending mistletoe from the air. Spinning on his heel with a dramatic flare of his robes, he stalked to the nearest house elf carrying drinks and downed several glasses of whatever happened to be on the tray.

_Thank you,_ I sent empathically.

Severus didn't acknowledge my connection as he continued to drink, moving toward the food-laden tables. He kept his back to me, and I could feel my heart thud against my chest. Reaching out again, I felt nothing but detachment. Occlumency. He wore it the way I wore my Vagueness Charm, and it was eating away at his soul.

_Severus, please_, I pleaded as I approached him from the rear. _The war is over. Can we not talk? _I placed my plate on the table to unsteadily reach for some punch.

"There is nothing to discuss," he replied quietly, turning to face the gathering, seemingly wanting to move away but unable to.

_Things happened. We can't change the past, but we can move on, somehow_.

He turned back to the table, in the pretence of filling a glass. "You know as well as I that things will never be the same. Too much has happened." He put the glass down and placed both hands on the tabletop.

_I still love you_.

"Then, you're a fool," was his curt retort as he stood to his full height, inhaling deeply.

Tears began to shimmer in my eyes, as I looked at the man I once called "husband". His eyes were deep pools of empty darkness. He was gone from my reach, barricaded behind spells and charms, determined to never be hurt again.

"You're a fool," he repeated more gently, barely above a whisper, not meeting my gaze, as he turned and headed toward the other side of the room.

Wandering the Manor House in an attempt to regain my composure, I came across a small, pink-eared house elf banging her head against the wall. Rushing to stop the self-destructive action, I knelt beside her and held onto the slim shoulders, turning her to face me.

"What are you doing?" I beseeched. "Please, never hurt yourself again." I was truly distressed by her actions.

"Pinky is a bad elf. Pinky is a bad elf," she wailed, trying to continue the self-punishment.

"Pinky, stop," I seized her again. "What did you do? Why are you a "bad elf"?" By now I was nearly sitting on the floor beside her.

"I is harming a Master. Pinky is to serve Potions Masters. She is not harming Masters." I waited for her sobs to diminish before coaxing her to explain. "Master Snape is being mean to Mistress. Master Snape is making Mistress cry. Pinky is hexing Master Snape." The wail grew louder and began to reverberate off the walls of the hallway.

"Hexed him?" I was shocked but shock quickly turned to amused curiosity. "What hex did you use?" I didn't think that Pinky could do lasting harm but felt a rush that she would try to protect me.

"Pinky is making Master Snape's hair into mistletoe. Witches is following Master Snape, and they is laughing and trying to kiss him. Master Snape is very angry." She buried her face in her hands, ashamed to look up.

I began to giggle, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into a full-blown laugh. Pinky raised her head from her hands in disbelief as I grabbed the little elf and gave her a comforting squeeze.

"Don't worry, Pinky" I chuckled. "I'm sure he has received much worse…and…I think he deserved it. Thank you for making me laugh."

Christmas day found me wandering the Botanic Gardens just southeast of the central campus on High Street. It was a chilly walk from the dorms, but a Warming Charm kept the dampness at bay. I had learned from last year's experience to have plenty of Pepper Up Potion on hand for the coming months as far too many people returned from their holidays with various degrees of illnesses. I also wanted to replenish my supply of Valerian. I wasn't sleeping well again, especially after my encounter with Severus, but I didn't want to resort to the Dreamless Sleep Potion. A strong Valerian tea should do the trick.

There weren't many people at the Gardens, most being home celebrating with their families, so it was a very quiet walk in a very peaceful atmosphere. When the war ended last fall, I found the Gardens to be a sanctuary, of sorts, a place to absorb the power of the plants and dissipate negative energies of my own. It filled me with an almost instant calm.

I was the only visitor in the exotic plants section and nodded to the lone security guard as he passed making his rounds. Waiting until he was around the corner, I cast a Disillusionment Charm and stepped over the thick velvet rope onto the soft earth. Locating the plants that were needed, I thanked Mother Earth for her sacrifice as I picked them and placed them in a blue cotton pouch. Stepping back over the barrier, I leisurely headed back to the dorm. The potions wouldn't take long to make, and I had picked enough to last for the next few months.

Darkness fell early at this time of year, and candles were lit not only for aesthetic reasons but also for a practical purpose. Christmas day was nearly over. The Pepper Up Potion was simmering over a low flame, and I was curled up on my bed with my notebook, going over my hypothesis for the meeting with Belby in two days. It was a good theory; a concrete one, and I think I finally figured out how to present it to the Muggle faculty for approval. I would need the resources here to carry out the studies for both worlds.

As the Valerian tea was beginning to have effect and the notebook slowly slipped from my hands, a light tap sounded at the window. Groggily rising from my comfortable position, I saw a white and grey owl on the snow-covered ledge. Opening the glass, a gust of cold wind blew the bird in, and it perched on the dresser, a small envelope in its beak. Taking the missive and feeding the bird a stale cracker that consisted of part of my dinner, I sat to read the note.

_Happy Christmas._

_I hope this finds you well._

_Strange happenings in Connaught Park, Dover. You skills are required again._

_A.D._

_Happy Christmas to you, too, Grandfather_, I thought bitterly as I tossed the note into the air, vaporizing it instantly. _Always have to mix business with pleasure_. So much for tucking in early.

There were times that I wished I could be more like Severus and turn my feelings off. I was tired of being hurt and disappointed. I think he had the right idea. Barriers may be the way to go.


	4. Chapt 3 While The World Is On Holiday

**3 – While the World is on Holiday**

It was very late by the time I revived myself from the effects of the Valerian tea, changed into my black jeans and jumper, and pulled on my black leather jacket. Stealthily exiting the dorms, I headed for Radcliffe Camera. The moon was partially hidden by the clouds, casting everything to the shadows. _All I need is a black watch cap, and I'd look like a burglar, _I thought sardonically as I avoided a flickering streetlight_._ The area around the Camera was abandoned, only a stray dog ventured out to dig in the trash. I hated Apparating blind. Albus' note merely read "Connaught Park, Dover", no Apparition point, no landmark, no description, nothing. Although I had been there once before, many years ago, I only had a vague memory of a Teddy Bears Picnic area. I would have to Apparate with that image and hope the place still existed.

Feeling slightly disoriented as I landed with a thump in the centre of my target, I congratulated myself for not splinching and for not landing elsewhere. The last time I had Apparated blind I had landed unceremoniously in a thorn bush. It took days before all of the thorns were removed from my…

Quickly glancing around, I reached out empathically, feeling fear in the park. Crouching to get a lower view, I stayed very still.

_I'm here to help. Can you tell me what's happened?_

There was no sound, not even a rustle in the bushes. The stillness was eerie, and I sent out a calm feeling to let the creatures know that I wasn't the enemy.

_I need to know what's happened so that I can help, _I repeated_._

I waited for what felt like an eternity before I sensed a cautious motion to my left. Whatever it was was afraid but crept gradually out of the darkness.

_It has killed_, the creature sent before I could see it clearly.

_What has killed?_ I asked, keeping as still as possible but trying to turn toward the approaching being.

_It, _it replied. _It has no face, no body. It just is. Dark. It fills you up and takes you over. I've seen it._

_Where is it now? _I asked_._

_It took my friend away, _the creaturemeowed pitifully.

_How did it take your friend away? _I sent out a comforting sensation_._

_It covered her and went inside. _The meow turned into a feeble yowl_._

At this point, I really did wish I could turn off my emotions. The overwhelming feeling of terror and distress was almost unbearable.

_Can you tell me which direction they went in and when they left? _

_They went toward where the loud horn sounds, earlier, when the light was high and the children played in the park._

That sounded like the docks, earlier in the day, when the light was high probably meant around noon. It was after midnight now. It had been a while. I thanked the tabby and offered it a treat from my pocket, giving it a scratch behind the ears. It butted my palm with its head and stretched up against my knee, enjoying the attention. Rising, I walked toward the shadow of the trees and Disapparated to the ferry dock.

Arriving in an alley near the ferry terminal, I was startled by a stray cat beneath a dumpster. Rome was filled with feral cats, and I was used to their "this is my place" demeanour, but this one hissed out of alarm, not threat.

_Are you the cat from the park?_ I asked standing my ground.

The creature hissed again. I felt no fear from it, no dread, simply that I was a stranger disturbing its peace.

_I'm looking for a strange cat to this area. One from the park. It may be acting oddly._ I tried to communicate with the feline.

The hissing stopped as the creature crept out from under its hiding spot.

_Strange. Yes. What's it to you? _It boldly hopped up onto the dumpster_._

_I need to know where it went,_ I answered, watching the cat lick its paw nonchalantly.

_Do you have food with you?_ it asked.

I took a treat from my pocket, and the hungry cat licked its lips. Standing tall to assert my dominance, I asked again, _The strange cat. What do you know?_

_It felt creepy. It went to the water and got on one of the big floats. Then, the float went away._

Away. I was too late. My heart sunk as I fed the cat a treat.

Wandering along the waterfront in the grey December dawn, I reached out to a few other creatures of the night and confirmed the alley cat's story. The essence had entered animals in Connaught Park in an attempt to find a suitable host, frightening and killing many along the way. Finally finding a host, the essence found its way to the ferry dock, boarded a ship, and left England. It would head to France first, probably having to change hosts soon as the small creature's system would not be able to sustain the merge for very long.

I would have to owl Albus with my report. I wondered where Voldemort would head next.

I slept for most of the following day to make sure that I was well rested before heading to my meeting.

Belby's private lab was in a rural section of Yorkshire. The central manor house was a plain, box-like structure made of simple grey flagstone with four large bay windows in the front, two on each level. The long, crushed stone lane leading to the indigo painted, double door was well cared for with the low shrubs on either side that appeared to be the type that flowered in the summer. The property surrounding the manor rolled gently toward a large meadow to the right and a wooded area to the left and beyond. The small grounds keeper hut could barely be seen at the edge of the woods, and it appeared to be abandoned. Another dwelling could be seen directly behind the manor. This one-level structure of light grey brick had small windows adorned with black shutters. This was Belby's lab.

I had only been to the Belby's home twice: once, when I first arrived at Oxford, to reacquaint myself with the researcher whom I had met once before at a Society of Potions Masters symposium, nearly three years earlier. Although Belby was not a Master, he had presented his lycanthrope research to the Society the year I was inducted. At the time, we discussed my interest in his work and during the first visit; we discussed his progress…or lack thereof. On the second visit, at the end of my first year, I explained my course of study in further detail and suggested a possible coalescing of our skills. He was very much opposed to a co-operative merger, as he had been working on his theory for a number of years and didn't want to share his research or any subsequent credit. I understood but diplomatically pointed out that, although his theories were well founded, he was obviously having difficulty getting to a final result, and my skills may be of service. The whole purpose of research was to find solutions for people's ailments. If joining forces sped the process along, then he shouldn't object. It took a while, but he finally relented, and we began discussing ways that I could be of assistance. Personally, I found him condescending. However, our consultation did prove to be enlightening on a variety of issues, and in the end, he finally confessed that he had reached a dead end. His biggest problem was that the werewolves wouldn't co-operate, as his experiments had been unsuccessful, even to the point of making the monthly transition worse for the subject. He was stuck and needed to look "outside the box" as it was obvious that he was trying the same methods repeatedly with no success. We had met several times since then, usually at the Bodleian Library in Oxford, and in the upcoming meeting I intended to introduce the possibility of Muggle Neurology and Biochemistry as subjects that may help. From what I could see, this new topic of intracellular transmitters seemed to be the key. Belby had already accepted Pharamcology, as it was very much like Alchemy and Potions, therefore an easier "pill to swallow", so to speak, but the other two were definitely Muggle studies, and Belby was not a wizard with a widely open mind. It may take some convincing.

The day was bitter cold, but I enjoyed the warmth of the sun as I walked the path to the Belby's home. As I approached, a middle-aged woman with jet-black hair and wearing a loose red and black robe opened the front door and squinted at the mid-morning sunlight. Mrs. Belby was a soft-spoken, obedient wife who tended to blend into the shadows without the use of a Disillusionment Charm. On the two occasions that I had visited, I think I had seen her for all of two minutes…if that. She would invite me in, and then disappear for the rest of the visit. I guess she was simply leaving her husband to his work, but there seemed to be something more.

Greeting the meek woman with a friendly smile, she returned the gesture hesitantly and led me through the narrow, front hallway and into the library. The room was dark and cramped. Bookshelves that lined two of the walls were filled to the brim with texts and tomes in various languages, sizes, and conditions. Belby sat behind a massive mahogany desk near a small, brick fireplace, parchments and texts strewn around him. His small, round glasses were perched on the end of his nose, and his brow was wrinkled. He looked lost in his work. I wondered if I wore the same intense expression as I worked. Mrs. Belby silently backed out of the room, closing the door behind me, and I waited patiently to be acknowledged. As time passed, I began to wonder if this was a test of his superiority? His home. His research. I would have to wait? Or, was he so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't realize that I was there? I cleared my throat.

"Mmmm," was his response without looking up.

I waited for another minute and cleared my throat again.

"Yes, yes," he answered absently, finally raising his head. "Why are you standing over there?" He looked puzzled.

"I wasn't invited to sit." My response was concise.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," he said impatiently, waving me to a large, dark-leather wing chair opposite his desk. "Come in and sit down. I was just going over some old notes…again." He shook his head, annoyed. "I remembered our conversation at the Bodleian last month, and, loathe I to admit it, but there is obviously a flaw somewhere. I just can't find it." He sat back in the heavy leather captain's chair, arms on the rests, chin resting on the index finger of his left hand.

"I don't think there's a flaw in your work." I tried to ease his mind. "I think there's something that simply hasn't been investigated. You're on the right track thinking that the brain is sending messages for the body's cells to change. We just have to figure out what the signal is in werewolves. I've begun researching something called "intracellular transmission systems" and believe this to be the key to cell morphology in lycanthrope. This system deals with a natural protein found in the brain that signals the change. I think in werewolves there is a …glitch…in the system. We need to locate that glitch and discover a way to alter, if not stop, the morphology."

Belby nodded slowly, grudgingly acknowledging the possibility that I may have information that will help. We were both researchers and, at first, he was reluctant to let me view his full, unpublished studies even though he knew my status within the Society and my experience with the Italian Ministry. I had a positive reputation for helping those in need. It wasn't like I was a novice researcher trying to steal his work. Plus, with my expertise in Potions, I would oversee the creation of the actual cure, if one could be found. Finally, reluctantly, he gave in.

Our conversation lasted well into the afternoon, a house elf serving a light lunch in the library as we worked. I was right in assuming that Belby would have difficulty with Muggle studies, however, it didn't take as long as I thought to convince him of the benefits of at least looking into them. Slowly, he began to see and understand my theory, even getting excited about some of the possibilities.

By dinnertime, we had come to a solid working arrangement and a tentative schedule for future meetings. We would have to keep in touch by owl. I would continue with my research at school, hoping that the Muggle faculty accepts my hypothesis so I could use the school's facilities, and he would review his existing research in hopes of finding the appropriate spot in which to apply the new information. I, too, was excited by the possibilities and hoped that we would have something concrete to work with by spring.


	5. Chapt 4 Decisions

**4 –Decisions **

I had received an owl from Albus at the beginning of January confirming my theory that Voldemort's essence had left England and was now in France. He praised my work, but I felt that I had not been successful. Voldemort had gotten away. Again. Memories of Godric's Hollow filled my nights. He had eluded me then as well. Severus had worked hard to keep the essence away from young Harry, and Albus had recruited me to track it once it fled, but I had lost the trail as the panicked wisps disappeared on the wind. I didn't fully understand Severus' anger, and he never completely forgave me. The nightmares began to take over. The Dreamless Sleep Potion left me feeling groggy during the day, and I, finally, resorted to the use of Occlumency on a few occasions to block out the pain. The more I thought of it, the more I believed that Severus had the right idea. Block things out, and you can't get hurt. I remembered a dispute I had with Albus when I had attended Hogwarts. He wanted to teach me Occlumency, and I had resisted. "I like to feel," had been my argument, but I was beginning to hate the feeling of being without the man I loved, hate the feeling of Saxon's loss, hate the feeling of having to work all of the time. I was tired of hurting. Maybe it was better not to feel. Occlumency slowly became a daily practice.

Students returned to the dorm by mid-January, and the peace and quiet of the holiday season was officially over. The Pepper Up Potion had been an excellent idea as many had returned ill, as I had predicted, and I couldn't afford to get sick. Classes would begin in a few days and routines would start again.

Late one evening, while I was reviewing some research, a weak knock sounded on the door. Casting a Seeing spell, I witnessed Emily standing on the other side, eyes red and swollen, dark rings making them look sunken. Her face was drawn and tired. She looked horrible. Opening the door for my friend, the willowy brunette's lower lip trembled. I ushered her into my room, and she sat on the padded chair that I had just vacated, wiping her tears away with a well-used tissue. Silently, I offered her tea that had just been brewed, and she accepted it with a shaky hand. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I waited for her to begin.

"Colin's sick," she sputtered unsteadily. "He's in the hospital. It started out like the flu, but he didn't get better. He's getting worse. He's so pale. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless."

I sat back and watched her blow her nose, thinking about the paper that she had interrupted. I had been working on my doctoral thesis proposal and was on a roll. I really didn't need this now.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked a bit more curtly than I had anticipated.

She raised her head in surprise at my tone and stared into my emotionless face. A hurt, puzzled look crossed her features.

"I was upset. You're my friend. I thought I could talk to you," she responded with quiet surprise.

"He's in the hospital. Surely the doctors know what they're doing," I said flatly.

Emily rose from her seat, her forehead creasing with anger, her face growing red as her temper began to flare.

"No. They don't," she replied hotly. "They have no idea what's wrong. They thought it was the flu, but now they don't know. It's been a week, and he hasn't gotten any better. I thought I could count on you, Daniella. I needed a friend. What's with you?"

"Nothing. There's just nothing I can do," I replied watching her head for the door.

"Thanks for the tea," she said as she slammed the cup onto the table, sloshing a bit over the side and bolting from the room.

I sat in silence for a moment thinking of my paper, of Colin's mysterious illness, of Emily's demand for consolation, and of my reaction, or lack thereof, to her need. Denying a friend in need bothered me as much as feeling the pain of my losses. I hurt her. That was not my way. That was not Wiccan. I'd broken the oldest rule: "Harm none", for a selfish reason. I lowered my head in shame, my own tears beginning to shimmer. How could I have done that? The dilemma between not wanting to hurt anymore and keeping my faith should not be a difficult one. I would have to find a better way to deal with my pain. Rising and wiping away my tears, I headed for my friend's room to apologize. Another Wiccan rule: take responsibility for your actions. If you cause harm, make a sincere attempt to fix it.

In the early hours before dawn, I lay awake thinking of what Emily had confided. She and Colin had gone to a fancy restaurant for dinner, nearly a week ago, where he had proposed. While happily walking home, Colin became feverish and his stomach began to cramp. He eventually doubled over, vomiting into a nearby dustbin. Emily had hailed a cab to get them home but diverted it to the hospital when Colin's eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he lost consciousness. Doctors originally thought he had a bad case of the flu as it was going around, but then suggested food poisoning. However, both diagnoses were ruled out when the symptoms persisted with no improvement. They had run a multitude of tests to no avail and were now simply waiting and watching to see what would happen next.

This all sounded far too familiar. Was it possible that after two years hidden Death Eaters were reviving some of Voldemort's "viruses"? Potions Master Montague had been captured and sent to Azkaban for his part in creating some of the worst viruses during the war, but there was someone else at the Ministry whom Severus thought had been involved as well. Was he still out there creating? This thought kept me awake until I finally decided to get up and do something about it. Getting dressed and casting a Disillusionment Charm, I slipped out of the dorm. I needed to see Colin.

Apparating to a small alcove near the entrance of St. Mary's Hospital in London, I stealthily entered the building, bypassing the nurse's desk on the third floor and sneaking into Colin's quarantined room. He was ghostly pale with beads of sweat across his forehead and upper lip. His unruly strawberry blond hair plastered against the sides of his face, and he looked even thinner than usual. He was unconscious. Warding the door and outer hallway, I quickly turned my attention to my sick friend. Using a Diagnostic Charm, I waved my wand over his head and chest. His temperature was elevated, but his heart rate and blood pressure were horribly low. Examining the medical chart hanging at the foot of the bed, I flipped to the toxicology report. The blood work appeared to be clear, but there was a spike in the gastric acid results. I checked the list of stomach contents on the original admissions form and compared them to the toxicology report. The doctors had ruled out food poisoning, but there was something not right. I compared the reports again. Fiddleheads were consumed as part of Colin's dinner prior to becoming ill, and there was a high gastric acid level, indicating a vinegar of some sort had also been ingested. I sat in a nearby chair to think. If the Fiddleheads had been cooked in Balsamic vinegar at a high temperature, rather than steaming them, as they should be, a natural poison would be released creating stomach pains, high fever and eventually the shutting down of the renal glands. It was similar to one of the first viruses that Voldemort had unleashed years ago, and an amateur Muggle cook would probably not recognize this lethal combination. Even with Colin relieving his stomach of dinner, the poison would still be in his system. Making a copy of the toxicology report and food content chart, I checked Colin one more time before ducking out of the room. I may not be a doctor, but Herbology and Potions were my specialties. I knew what I was doing. Colin had been poisoned, of that I was sure. It was most likely an accident, as there was no epidemic.

I left the hospital and headed back to the dorm to begin what I do best.

An Egyptian bezoar was in my personal stores but seeing how this poison had been in Colin's system for a week already, he needed a stronger remedy. When the sun rose, I made a quick visit to an Alchemist's shop in Diagon Alley to retrieve some supplies that I would need, and for the following day, worked diligently in a vacant lab on campus. All I had to do was create a liquid enhancement for the bezoar, something that Colin could easily swallow and that could sustain the effects of the potion for a longer period of time, thus countering the natural poison. Time was of the essence, but the potion, itself, wouldn't take long to brew.

Returning to the hospital later that night under a Disillusionment Charm, I checked Colin's vital signs and saw no improvement. As I stood by his side, Colin reached out and lightly grasped my arm.

"Are you an angel?" he rasped, his mouth and throat parched and rough from disuse.

I jumped at the thought that he could see through the charm but realized that the charm showed a residual shimmer, like heat waves floating across a horizon.

"I can hardly see you. Am I going to die?" A tear trickled down his temple as he lay on his back looking up into my face.

"Not if I can help it," I whispered my reassurance as I covered his hand with mine.

He sighed and closed his eyes as a slight smile grew on his dry lips. "Good. I plan to get married."

I inhaled deeply at the thought as I supported his head with my right arm and lifted his shoulders. This had to work.

"Drink this," I encouraged. "It will help."

He drank and grimaced at the bitterness of the potion, dribbling a bit out of the side of his mouth. I wiped the excess with a small cloth and tucked the empty vial into my pocket. Leaning him back against the pillows, I stayed with him through the night.

In the darkness of the room, I sat with my thoughts and came to a final decision. As much as it pained me, I needed my feelings, my emotions. They were the basis of my empathic powers, and they were what pushed me to create medicinal potions. I wouldn't have become the youngest Potions Mistress without them. They were a very important part of who I am. Yes, I would still use Occlumency to help me focus, but I couldn't use it as Severus does. I just couldn't.

As I stared at the blank wall in front of me, in the hour right before dawn, Colin stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. Quickly casting a Diagnostic Charm, I checked his vitals, again. His fever had broken, and his heart rate and blood pressure were returning to normal. He turned his head to look at me through foggy eyes, and I smiled as I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Casting the Disillusionment Charm again, I drifted from his sight. Slowly creeping from his room, I felt relieved and confident that he would be all right.


	6. Chapt 5 Moving On

**5 – Moving On**

Valentine's Day was approaching, and Colin was back at school. His "near-death" experience only served to push Colin and Emily into a closer relationship and gave them determination to focus more on their future. Emily would often slip wedding plans into our conversation, and even though the topic twinged, I listened as a good friend would. One day as she pulled out a stack of bridal books from her overstuffed school bag, she noted my wistful expression and quickly packed them away, apologizing. I shook my head with a cheerless smile, telling her not to worry.

"Have you seen him lately?" she inquired cautiously reaching over the café table to place her hand on my arm.

"At Christmas. We talked a little."

"You know, you never talk about it. If you don't mind me asking, what happened? You obviously still love him, and you do see him on occasion. Why can't you be together? It seems so sad."

I sighed glancing around the nearly empty coffee shop. It was mid-afternoon in the middle of the week. Most people were either at work or in class. We had a spare.

"Something happened a little over a year ago." I paused, despondently gazing out the frosty window. "There was a fire. It destroyed our home, and our son was killed. Things snowballed after that, and I guess we both blamed ourselves… and maybe each other. It was a mutual split but, you're right, I still love him." I took a deep breath as I focused on dulling the pain.

"Does he still love you?"

"I don't know," I responded flatly.

"I'm so sorry," she said sincerely, shaking her head sadly.

We sat for a moment in silence until I falsely snapped out of my depressing mood and, in forced cheer, changed the subject. "So, what do you and Colin have planned for Valentine's?"

The diversion worked, and Emily's serious mood changed at the mention of her betrothed's name. She began giving a full description of their plans.

The Red Lion Pub was fully decorated in Valentine splendour. Emily and Colin were snuggled up in their usual corner, and Russell had joined them. The lovebirds had hijacked me on my way back to the dorm after an afternoon in the library. My thesis dissertation was next week, but Colin insisted that I join them. He was still trying to pair me up with Russell, even with Emily's insistence to "leave it alone". I had to admit, though, as I sat there, Russell was a nice man: easy to talk with, intelligent (he was doing his Masters in Archaeology), and he was a gentleman. What would it hurt to just enjoy his company? I did, however, make it clear from the start that I had no interest in a relationship. He seemed okay with that, and we were able to relax and talk.

He had plans to join an excavation crew in the summer to work on the ruins of Pompeii. They had been discovered several years ago and were occasionally used as a study site for a variety of universities. Russell would be finished his Masters by then and had been asked to go as an official excavator as he had been there before as a student. He was thrilled at the prospect and chattered animatedly about his plans.

I smiled and nodded in the right places until he slapped himself on the forehead and embarrassedly exclaimed, "God, am I stupid! Here I am describing Italy to an Italian!" I chuckled at his reaction. "Why didn't you say something? You should have stopped me?" He leaned back in his chair looking sheepish, running a thick hand through his short, dark hair.

"Why? You obviously love what you do. It shows in how you talk, and Italy is a beautiful place." My accent sounded stronger at the mention of home.

"Where did you live?" he asked innocently, his eyes glowing in the dim light of the pub.

At that, Emily's head shot up from Colin's shoulder, concerned with how I would react.

"In Tuscany," I replied, quietly. "At the base of the Alps."

Russell whistled lightly. "Beautiful. Do you ever go home to visit?"

I could feel my heart begin to pound in my ears.

"No," I whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. _And, please don't ever ask again. _

Emily and Colin disappeared part way through the evening leaving Russell and I alone for the first time. We joked about our friends' attempts to pair us up, and I apologized for avoiding him prior to Christmas. He shrugged it off admitting that he had been a bit insistent and that Colin had finally told him that I was involved with someone else. He was glad to see that I was willing to give him a chance now. I didn't know what to say. Was I really willing to give him a chance?

Taking the long way back to the dorm after the pub closed, I felt his hand tentatively brush against mine several times. Unconsciously, I pulled away, but somehow part of me wanted the contact. It had been so long since I'd let anyone get close.

By the time we reached the front doors, my gloved hand was nestled comfortably in his strong grip. He offered to walk me to my room, but I declined. Saying our "good nights" at the entry of the tall, stone building, he raised my hand to his lips and kissed the woollen back, then slowly pulled me close. As his head lowered to mine and our eyes locked, a moment of panic struck, and I abruptly turned my head at the last minute. His kiss landed on my cheek. Smiling meekly, I bid him "good night" and left him with a slightly bewildered look on his face.

The following week was a rush of classes, homework, and preparations, and on the day of my dissertation, the sky was grey and bleak, the sun didn't even seem to be trying to fight its way through the thick clouds. It wasn't raining or snowing, but you could feel the moisture in the air. If the temperature didn't rise, the streets would be icy by nightfall.

My dissertation was to take place at the Examination School instead of one of the science buildings. The gated entrance to the courtyard made the enormous stone structure ominous and imposing, and the paved walkway circling the small trees and bushes in the centre of the yard made the path to the front entry long. As I reached the solid, dark doors, the clock tower above struck two. My palms began to sweat. My appointment was at two-thirty. Climbing the long, granite stairs to the second floor, I found the waiting room and changed into my scholastic robes. It was interesting how educational formality was still observed in some aspects of the Muggle world. Opening my rucksack and removing the files, I began to prepare. I had approached one of my Pharmacology professors, last December, and asked if he would sponsor my thesis. He willingly agreed, so I knew at least one member of today's panel. There would be five professors in all from various scientific fields who would form the committee. I wondered who else would be there.

Exactly at two-thirty, I entered the sterile, white conference room, and my question was answered.

_Just my luck,_ I thought cynically. _Professor Kurtz_.

Approaching the small table in the centre of the room, I stood and waited to be officially acknowledged. The panel sat at a long, wooden table with their backs against the far wall, heads down, flipping through copies of the thesis or adjusting themselves in their seats.

"Welcome, Miss Di Marco," the professor in the centre of the team raised his head to acknowledge me. I had seen him around campus. He was one of the top Biotech researchers at the university and was obviously heading this group as he introduced the others and bade me to begin.

I tipped my head in acknowledgement and began my dissertation. I had worked hard on this theory and was convinced that it would not only help with lycanthrope but may be the key to halting certain forms of cancer as well. That was my Muggle approach. Applying external forces to the intracellular transmission systems may create a desired response to control cell mutation of this disease.

My dissertation lasted well over an hour. It was thorough and provided all the information required while presenting a variety of possibilities for future research. When I finished, I closed my file, and folded my hands on top, waiting for their questions.

"Just when did you come up with such an idea?" Professor Kurtz snidely remarked.

"This particular theory arose last November when you assigned the reading in class," I responded formally.

"November? You've not even been working on this for very long." the Biotech professor replied with surprise.

"No, Sir. Although I have been researching the effects of cell mutation in the human body for some time, the concept of transmission systems was only introduced recently. It seemed to be the missing link in my already formed theory."

The panel glanced at each other, impressed, and the questions continued. I fielded them with ease. I was confident of my topic and knew that I had researched it well.

Filled with relief, I headed down the wide stairwell to the main floor below. It was over, and I would hear the results sometime next week. Belby had owled me last night to find out when I would be presenting and to arrange the next meeting, and Emily, Colin and Russell had seen me off from the dorm. They wanted me to meet them at the pub afterwards, but I just wanted to get to my room. Thoughts of a steaming, hot bath and scented candles filled my mind. I needed to relax.

Reaching the bottom step, a stern voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Di Marco," the sharp tone echoed down the stairwell.

"Sir?" I turned slowly to face my adversary.

"So, I planted that seed, did I?" Professor Kurtz's smug smirk danced on his features as he descended behind me.

"I guess so," I replied, taking on the unspoken challenge. "You set the assignment, and if I recall, accused me of not doing the reading."

"You weren't paying attention."

"On the contrary, I was thinking of the possibilities."

"Do you get distracted easily?" he asked sharply.

"No," I replied icily.

"Good," he answered tersely as he continued down the stairs, past me, and out the door.

The result was in, and I was called to Professor Cornwall's office on Wednesday. My sponsor congratulated me on a well-presented thesis and was excited to oversee the project. However, he informed me that as the research was cross-curricular between two disciplines, pharmacology and biochemistry, it would be prudent to have a second advisor, someone who knew the theory and understood the Quantum Mechanics behind it: Professor Kurtz. My heart landed in my throat after doing a flip in my chest.

_Wonderful,_ I thought sardonically. _This is going to be so much fun_.

We would work out a schedule for lab and advisory time in the upcoming months, and I could begin as soon as I completed my present program. Graduation was in four months, and I smiled at the prospect of independent work. Finally, I knew my path and could officially start work on the lycanthrope cure. It also excited me that my theory for cancer research may lie in the same hypothesis. It was just a matter of finding out which stimuli would have the appropriate effect on the transmission systems.

On one hand, I was reaching the end, yet on the other hand, it was just the beginning.


	7. Chapt 6 Ready, Set, Go

6 – Ready, Set, Go

He casually sat on an old park bench across from the arched entrance of the Bodleian Library. His legs where crossed at the knee as he leisurely leaned back with his elbow resting on the rear of the wooden seat. An open copy of the _London Times_ was held in his hands, but his eyes belied his reading it as they shifted guardedly from under his sandy brown fringe of hair. He watched, waiting patiently, as people passed by him. Patience was something he had in abundance. Life had not been easy and, of his twenty-five years of existence, it had made him appear much older, the hardships having taken their toll. His worn and out-of-date sport jacket and trousers told of another chapter of his life. He was a poor man but not one of desperate means. He did the best he could under the circumstances.

The bells of the Church of St. Mary the Virgin sounded the hour, scattering the pigeons roosting in the tower. The man's head rose from the paper, scanned the area, and then he looked at his watch. It was six o'clock, dinnertime, and his stomach was beginning to growl. Scanning the area again, he sighed heavily, and resumed reading. His mentor and friend had suggested this meeting, but he was not confident of its success. He faced new challenges each month. How could this person change things? But, his mentor had been persuasive and encouraged him to give it a chance. At least _he_ seemed hopeful.

I stood in the shadow of the archway of the Bodleian Library, watching, uncertain of what to do. I had planned this moment in my head and gone over many scenarios of how it would play out. Now, I wasn't sure. It had been so long since we'd seen each other, and so much had happened. As far as he was concerned, I no longer existed. Life went on, and I wasn't a known part of his. I had lived and still lived a life of secrecy. But, he was special, a page from my red file folder: my folder of aspirations and dreams. I continued to watch.

The late April sun was beginning to set, and the shadows grew long across the pavement. _It's now or never_, I thought. Straightening to my full height, which wasn't much at five and a half feet, and running a nervous hand through my short, light brown hair, I looked at my reflection in the window. I'd lost a lot of weight over the past year and a half, too much stress in my life being the factor, but I had to admit, as I regarded the reflection, I looked good in the tight burgundy turtleneck jumper and black jeans. Satisfied with my appearance, I took a deep, cleansing breath, and strode down the path, walking with mock confidence toward the bench. With my Vagueness Charm fully in place, I approached the man reading the paper.

"Mr. Lupin, good evening." My heavy Italian accent had softened with the constant use and exposure to English. I extended my hand in greeting, feeling the palm beginning to sweat. "I'm Daniella Di Marco."

Remus Lupin lifted his head from the newspaper and examined me politely. His mentor, Albus Dumbledore, had advised him to meet a young Graduate student at the University of Oxford. This student, although a witch, was studying Muggle medicine in hopes of discovering a cure for lycanthrope. Somehow, I don't think I was what he expected.

He stood, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and extended his hand, a slight blush colouring his neck and pale cheeks as he smiled. He looked drawn and tired.

"Miss Di Marco, thank you for meeting with me," he said with quiet apprehension.

I smiled in return, remembering a young Remus' smile from school. How shy he was then, too, how afraid and insecure as well. It didn't seem like much had changed.

"Headmaster Dumbledore sent a letter explaining your condition," I began. "I hope that we can find a successful treatment. I understand that you've worked with Mr. Belby before but stopped. May I ask why?" I tried to sound professional.

"The trials weren't working, and with the war on, well, other things seemed more important," he said politely but uncomfortably. He quickly turned the tables. "The Headmaster said that you're a Potions Mistress and worked for the Italian Ministry. No offence, but I was expecting someone older," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

I chuckled lightly. "I thought so. You looked surprised when you saw me. Rest assured, I am a fully qualified Potions Mistress and, yes, I've worked in the Experimental and Medicinal Potions Lab at the Italian Ministry of Magic. I had an interest in lycanthrope and a theory that required the study of certain topics in Muggle medicine. My Ministry encouraged the studies and, I think that between Mr. Belby's and my combined skills and research, we can produce an effective treatment for this condition. I don't guarantee a cure, but I believe that we can lessen the effects."

I could see a look of both hope and doubt mixed in those soft grey eyes. I wanted to reassure him that I would do my best, but before I could speak his stomach growled loudly, and he looked away.

"Was that mine or yours?" I chuckled, placing my hand on my stomach, knowing it was his but trying to ease his embarrassment. "I missed lunch today."

He smiled, examining his shoes, then looked up at me through that fringe. "Me too. Shall we go grab a bite and discuss this further?"

I nodded, and we walked a path out of the learning centre and down High Street where many pubs and shops lined the busy throughway. Surely, we could find a quiet corner somewhere to talk.

The Hobgoblin on St. Aldates Street, just south of High, was quiet for a Tuesday evening, and we easily found a table in a corner away from the other patrons. Ordering dinner, we sat in the awkward silence of two strangers needing to get acquainted.

"Mr. Lupin," I ventured uneasily. "What do you do for a living?"

"Not much I'm afraid. I worked for Headmaster Dumbledore for a while, but there's not much need for my services at the moment." He shifted uncomfortably, and I assumed from his turning his head away with a frown that I had hit a sore spot.

"Good, then, you have time to spend with me?" I playfully winked at him with a flirtatious smile to lighten the mood.

His lips twitched into a small smirk as he turned back to the table. "Yup, I'm all yours."

Through the simple pub fare, we talked about all sorts of things: his days in school, my life in Italy, his work with Dumbledore, my work at the Ministry, Belby's research, my studies at Oxford, and our hopes for finding a treatment. I would receive my Masters in Science in two months and had already been accepted into the Doctorate program with a thesis on _Dysfunctions of the Intracellular Transmitting Systems._ This was the theory that I hoped would lead to a breakthrough in the lycanthrope research. Belby and I had been working together on a regular basis since the thesis was accepted, and we had begun to blend his old research with the new hypothesis. So far, it looked promising.

By the time dinner was over, we were laughing like old friends, how ironic. Remus seemed duly impressed by my qualifications, and we seemed to be compatible. This would prove necessary in future studies as there would come a time when we would have to stay in close proximity in order to examine the changes in the week prior to, during, and after the full moon. Trust would be an issue. I had only seen a werewolf once and that had been Remus during my last month at Hogwarts, so many years ago. He may not remember, but I did. He didn't cross the line of my circle. He didn't hurt me, although he had the opportunity. That would be a major factor that would keep me safe.

End of term reports were due. Exams were fast approaching. Professors Cornwall and Kurtz met with me to discuss and plan the research for my doctorate. The work with Belby and Remus had begun and was progressing slowly but well. Albus had made a request for me to go to the south of France during Easter break to investigate a lead on Voldemort. Everything seemed to be on the move.

As I stumbled toward my room one evening in mid-May, after a long day in the lab, I sensed that the wards had been disturbed, not violently, but disturbed nevertheless. Shaking my wand down my sleeve and into my hand, I tested the security. It seemed fine, and I became puzzled. Cautiously opening the door, I was struck by an odd odour. Covering my mouth and nose quickly with my free hand, I ventured in guardedly, wand at the ready. Nothing appeared out of place, but the smell infiltrated my nostrils. It was something familiar, from long ago, it seemed. Scanning the room, I sensed no other force, magical or otherwise, however, I did discover the source of the odour. The table/desk near the bathroom was set for dinner. The aroma of roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy with fresh peas and baby carrots wafted through the room. A small side salad was to the right and a fruit cobbler was to the left for dessert. My mouth watered. I hadn't had a descent meal like this in ages. As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember the last meal I had eaten. It was possibly the one that I had when I first met with Remus and that was weeks ago. I called out, thinking that maybe Emily had somehow gotten in and brought the dinner. After all, she had complained recently about how thin I was becoming, and Colin was worried that I would end up with malnutrition. No one answered. Slowly approaching the table, I ran my finger around the edge of the plate, casting a spell to analyse the contents for poisons or foreign substances. Nothing, and I had a large repertoire to choose from. Puzzled, I sat at the table and let my senses take over. I didn't realize just how hungry I was. The meal was delicious.

For the following week, when I returned to my room in the evening, a meal would be set: roast pork with garlic potatoes, pepper gravy, corn and green beans; chicken with dumplings and mixed vegetables; lasagna with caesar salad; each one as delectable as the next with a luscious dessert. I certainly appreciated my benefactor but was concerned as to their motive. I still cast a testing spell on each meal prior to eating but never found anything wrong. I had asked Emily if she knew anything about it, and she had no idea but was pleased that someone was looking out for me.

During the second week, the routine began to change. Not only was dinner being served, but as I got out of the shower in the morning, I would find a fresh fruit platter, a plate of toast and muffins and a pot of tea ready and waiting. Someone was getting into the room while I was there. _That_ was unnerving, so I decided to set a trap. The following morning, I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stood by the door, waiting; all energies alert. A light 'pop' of Apparition sounded a few moments later, and there was a slight shuffle of food being left. I opened the door a crack.

"You?" I exclaimed quietly, not wanting to startle my benefactor who was holding a hot pot of tea.

Eyes widened in surprise as the pot was nervously set on the table.

"Why?" I sputtered.

"Because Mistress is needin' looking after. Mistress is not eating and is getting sick." Pinky's ears were nearly scarlet, and she shook from head to toe, tears beginning to form in her bulbous eyes. "I is not wanting Mistress to get sick."

A flick of my hand turned the shower off, and I moved into the bedroom.

"How did you know that I wasn't eating?" I was curious to know if she had been watching me.

"Mistress is very thin and pale at Yule. Pinky listens to what others is saying, too. They is saying that Mistress works too hard. Head Master says Pinky can look after Mistress if it is to your pleasing." Pinky bowed low and didn't rise.

I moved to the little house elf and gathered her into a hug.

"Thank you, Pinky. I very much appreciate your efforts and care."

Pinky blushed deeply, tears now flowing freely.

The following two weeks were the best I had had in a long time. It was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I began eating regular meals, and people were beginning to notice the healthy glow return to my face. Pinky was a delightful companion as well as an excellent cook, and now, I felt free to focus more clearly on my studies.

Friday ended a very hard week of exams and labs. Today's four-hour lab was brutal, and I took every moment to review my work. I was doing it the Muggle way, no magic, and this particular professor was very specific about procedure. He liked things "his" way: no creativity, no exploration of possibilities, nothing but regurgitated information from his books and notes. I was glad to finally finish this course. It was stifling.

As I exited the lab and ambled my way down the corridor, a tall brunette approached from the opposite direction, extending a Styrofoam cup of tea, stopping me.

"Tough one, wasn't it?" she began, taking a sip from her own cup. She had left the exam about half an hour earlier.

I nodded silently, shifting my rucksack higher on my shoulder and balancing the tea with the other hand. Together, we slowly walk toward the exit, heading back to the dorms.

"Colin's exam doesn't end for another hour. We're going to head to the pub tonight. Want to come?" she invited.

"Actually, that sounds good," I replied with a sigh and a tired smile.

Emily's eyes grew wide with surprise. "You mean I don't have to twist your arm? Are you feeling alright?" she joked trying to feel my forehead with the back of her hand.

I playfully brushed her away, continuing the pace.

"Okay, what's his name, and does Russell know? I know you said that you two are "just friends", but he's got a thing for you." She confided with a tilt of her head.

"What's whose name?" I asked, turning to look at my friend as we reached the residence door.

"Oh, please. The smile, the glow, I swear there's even a bounce to your step. It has to be a man," she insisted, and then gasped, wide-eyed. "Are you back with him? Are you two together again? Oh, Daniella…" she gushed, but I raised my hand to stop her.

"No, we're not back together. I just seem to have my life back on track, and it feels good to be coming to the end of this part of my studies. I can't wait to get on with a more independent work."

"Work, work, work. That's all you do." She waved her free hand in the air, and shook her head, not totally convinced of what I had said.

As we climbed the stairs of the residence to our floor, Emily came to an abrupt halt, and I almost ran into her.

"Want to change your story?" she asked with a mischievous grin, turning to me then looking back down the corridor.

My forehead creased in puzzlement as I looked past her and down the hall.

Remus. At my door. Oh, Goddess! I blushed three shades of red and cleared my throat nervously.

"Hmmm," Emily watched my reaction with amusement. "So "what's whose name?"" she teased.

As we walked the length of the corridor, Remus' head rose and turned our way. A small smile flickered across his features.

"Mmm, cute," Emily directed toward me under her breath. I just shook my head at her.

"Umm, sorry for coming unannounced. I needed to speak with you," Remus said quietly.

"You're welcome anytime," I assured. "Emily, this is Remus. Remus, Emily," I introduced.

"Remus? Interesting name." She grinned at the young man, and then turned to me. "I'll understand completely if you don't show up tonight." She winked and turned to resume the path to her room. "Nice to meet you, Remus," she singsonged over her shoulder with a smirk.

"You had plans," Remus apologized.

"Nothing major and nothing that can't include you, if you want to join us. It's just a few people going to the Red Lion. It's been a tough week," I explained. "And, it won't be for a while. Her "significant other" is still in an exam."

"It must be hard trying to balance it all."

"Sometimes." I looked around as a few other students were returning to the dorm. "Want to come in? I'd rather not have people hear our conversation."

He nodded shyly as I released the wards and entered the room. His eyes quickly scanned the sparse chamber. Pinky had been there earlier and had tidied up, thank goodness. I seem to recall leaving a few unmentionables laying around. Remus sat on the padded chair near the table.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" I offered, knowing that he didn't eat regularly.

"I don't want to be any trouble," he replied softly.

I shook my head at him with a scolding smile and a platter of small sandwiches, pate, crackers and cheese, and a pot of steaming tea magically appeared on the table.

"That was fast," he looked surprised.

"I have a little help," I answered with a grin, silently praising Pinky.

Remus' visit had to do with his uneasiness with Belby and his preference to work primarily with me. His past experience had not been good, but he was willing to try again: anything to work for a cure, but Belby's attitude was grating and difficult for him to deal with. Remus understood that I was swamped with work at the moment but reiterated that he would rather work with Belby only in my presence. I agreed to his request, explaining that my exams should be over soon, and reassured him that I would deal with Belby should there be repercussions. I didn't want to lose Remus for the study, but I also didn't want a friend to be uncomfortable.

The tray of food slowly disappeared as we nibbled at it and chatted easily. Remus began to relax. His smile was shy and that fringe of sandy brown hair kept falling into his eyes. I found myself smiling at the slightest things, feeling truly comfortable.

By seven o'clock, we gathered our coats and headed for the Red Lion to join the others. At first, he began to draw back, not wanting to intrude. We were all students sharing a common experience of final exams. He was an unemployed wizard with nothing in common with any of us, yet I coaxed him to join me anyway.

Entering the pub and heading to the usual spot, I was greeted by a few contemporaries. Reaching the customary table, all heads turned as Remus and I approached. Emily grinned broadly as she nudged Colin who glanced sideways at the tall, burly, dark-haired man who sat with them. As we stopped at the table, the dark-haired man rose, puffing himself to his full size, as a bear would do when confronting an adversary. He extended his calloused hand formally in introduction.

"I'm Russell," he said with a deep, serious voice, taking Remus' hand firmly in his grip.

"Pleased to meet you," my old friend replied, pleasantly. "I'm Remus." He was obviously returning the handshake with equal force.

Men!


	8. Chapt 7 Graduation

**7 – Graduation**

The Sheldonian Theatre, on Broad Street, built by designer Christopher Wren between 1664 and 1668, was typical of the fashion of the time. The round-faced granite structure with carved pillars and ornate doors seated about a thousand people and, as today's graduation would include several faculties, all seats would be occupied.

Approaching the rear of the building, my gown and hood were neatly reduced and tucked into the pocket of my light blue summer dress. I had opted for cap sleeves and a neckline that reached my collarbone knowing that I tended to get a nervous blush across my chest and didn't want it to be distracted. I was restless and fidgeted. I hated public attention, and even though I was just one of over a hundred students, I had won the Nuffield Award for highest grade-point average in my field with "the intent to continue studies in medical research". I would be presented with a plaque and bursary. Mentally lowering the heels of my shoes, I shook my head to clear it. Nerves.

An organizer rushed through the waiting room. "Fifteen minutes," she announced.

Finding a quiet corner, I removed the gown and hood from my pocket. Glancing around quickly, they were enlarged to their proper size, and I put them on. It was a standard, black London Master gown with an azure blue hood lined with gold satin. The cowl and cape were edged in scarlet. All Masters of Science wore the same colours, but other faculties bearing different colours joined us today. It was an impressive sight.

"Ten minutes."

The organizers arrived and hurriedly placed the graduates in alphabetical order, adjusting a gown here and a hood there. I glanced down the line and saw Colin and Emily in their respective spots. Russell's commencement had been two days ago as he was in a completely different field. Colin looked handsome in his charcoal suit. His flushed face blended well with his strawberry blonde hair. He toyed with his mortarboard until an organizer slapped his hand away from it, obviously scolding him like a little boy. Emily watched the scene helplessly from further down the line. She looked radiant. Her long chestnut hair was pulled neatly back in a French plait. Her soft features were marred only by the biting of her lower lip. As I caught her attention, she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue childishly with a grin. I smiled nervously and turned back to my spot as the pomp and circumstance music began.

Solemnly, we filed into the theatre in time to the music and took our places in the audience. Introductions were made. The keynote speaker gave his speech, and one by one, our names were called, and we proceeded onto the stage to receive our diplomas. Later, as the awards were called and recipients went forward, I tried to analyse why I was so nervous. I was a Potions Mistress. Highly respected in my field. I had given a speech at my induction ceremony years ago. I socialized with Masters of many levels. Why should this make me nervous?

"Miss Daniella Di Marco," the chancellor obviously repeated as he scanned the crowd.

_Oh shoot. That's me!_ I thought as I quickly rose and made my way to the stage. Hastily climbing the steps, I missed one and stumbled. I could hear a collective gasp from those sitting closest to the stage but felt a force grab hold of me and set me right. I never hit the ground. Reaching the chancellor, my face was as scarlet as the cowl. He raised an eyebrow and with a crooked smile congratulated me on a job well done. I don't know whether he was talking about my grades or not falling on my face. Thanking him and shaking his hand, I descended the steps and rapidly returned to my place, feeling a presence that I couldn't locate. Turning in my seat, I glanced around the audience as the last of the awards were given. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary. I reached out empathically, and, again, felt nothing. It was probably just my imagination.

The sun beamed brightly as proud parents and restless younger siblings gathered on the pavement outside the theatre to greet and congratulate the graduates. I skirted the crowd, trying to find the clearest exit without being noticed. No such luck. I felt long, cold fingers grasp my elbow, and I was swung back into the crowd, landing in front of a group of strangers.

"Mum, Dad, this is my friend Daniella," Emily introduced enthusiastically. "Daniella, this is my family." She waved her hands dramatically toward an average looking middle-aged man and woman and identical twin sisters who were about fifteen years old.

"Pleased to meet you," I smiled and offered my hand in greeting to the couple.

Emily's father took my hand first, then her mother.

"We've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Emily's mother gushed in much the same way that Emily did.

"The pleasure is mine," I nodded formally to the older woman.

Another family then, joined us and greetings were extended between the two. Colin's family was much larger: parents, three siblings, an aunt, two uncles and a cousin. The only large family I had ever been around were the Camptas when I lived in Tuscany. This crowd was a bit much to handle.

"Where's your Mum and Dad?" Colin's youngest brother piped up, and all eyes turned to me.

"I didn't pull you away from them, did I?" Emily covered her mouth in embarrassed surprise.

"No," I shook my head with a smile. "They're not here."

"Such a shame. They couldn't make it?" Colin's mother asked sympathetically.

"Surely someone could have come to see you graduate? It's quite an achievement," Emily's father remarked a bit annoyed at my being alone.

I took a deep breath and confronted them with a polite smile.

"My parents were killed when I was fifteen. I have no other family. I'm really quite used to being on my own," I replied to their shocked expressions.

"I never knew. In two years, why didn't you say something?" Emily asked.

"The topic never came up. What do you say? Oh, by the way, I'm an orphan? No. Life goes on, and you have to go with it, otherwise you go nowhere," I explained.

"Well, you're coming with us, if you have no other plans," Emily's mother kindly insisted.

"Hmm, she may have plans," Colin smirked, looking beyond the group.

Russell was making his way through the crowd toward us dressed in chocolate brown dress pants and jacket and an open neck cream shirt. He was holding a small bouquet of flowers and grinning widely.

"What's he wearing?" one of Emily's sisters exclaimed loudly, turning her nose up.

We all looked toward Russell, who in turn, stopped to look around, confused, to see what we were gaping at. About six feet behind him was a doddering old man wearing a faded brown, out-of-date sport suit, orange shirt and green striped tie.

"Look at his beard," exclaimed Colin's little brother. "It's ginormous!"

"Shhh," Colin's mother admonished lightly. "He must belong to someone here."

And, as the old man approached, the group fell silent.

"Congratulations, my dear," he called out as he took hold of Emily's hand, shaking it vigorously. "And you, my son," as he then shook Colin's hand. "I believe you graduated a couple of days ago, did you not?" he directed the next comment to Russell, and shook his hand as well.

The families were very quiet as they watched the strange, old man.

"And you, my dear, I am very proud of you, as I'm sure your parents would be," he directed the last comment to me.

"Thank you, Sir," I replied formally. "I had sent a message but had not received a reply. I wasn't sure if you would make it."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said grasping my hands in his. "But, I'm afraid I can't stay. I watched the ceremony and was not at all surprised to see you achieve the highest grades. You were the only student in my school to ever skip a year, if I recall."

I nodded at the memory. The Sorting Hat couldn't decide where to place me at first and when it decided on Ravenclaw, it advanced me a year. Poor Professor McGonagall couldn't believe it.

"Professor Dumbledore was the Headmaster at the school I attended after my parents' death," I explained to my friends. "We've kept in touch ever since."

Albus gently extricated me from the group and in a low voice repeated his praise and apologized for not getting in touch sooner. There were issues involving the Wizengamot that required his attention, and that's where he would be returning. He inquired about the work with Belby and Remus and seemed very pleased that Remus was following through. We spoke for a few moments, and he asked that I keep him apprised of Remus' progress. I agreed. I was saddened that Remus couldn't be here today, but the full moon had been last night, and I knew that he needed time to recover. He still wouldn't allow anyone near him the few days prior to and during the change. It was a highly personal thing, and he wasn't comfortable sharing that part of his life, even for a cure. Not yet, anyway.

As Albus bid the families "good-bye" and toddled off, the crowd began to dissipate.

After the customary pictures where taken, Emily and Colin's parents insisted that Russell and I join them for dinner.

It was a delightful evening of sharing stories and plans. Everyone had a direction to go in. Colin would take the summer off, and then continue his studies toward becoming a paediatrician. He and Emily planned to be married when he began residency work in another couple of years. Emily had two job offers from competing research facilities, one in London and one in Leeds. She was weighing the possibilities and would make a decision by the end of the month. Russell was leaving for Rome soon and didn't know when he would be back. He was excited about going and was constantly pumping me for information about where to visit. I planned to take the summer off to work with Belby and Remus but would keep in contact with my advisors as they expected me to begin my doctorate research this summer as well. I would, but I wanted some time with my red file folder first. The chatter went on for hours until the youngest family members got bored and started to complain.

We said our "good-byes" outside of the restaurant. Emily and I hugged and promised to keep in touch. Colin and I would probably run into each other occasionally on campus, and that, too, would lead to a continued contact with Emily. But, Russell would be much further away, in a place that I really didn't want to return to anytime soon.

As the families went their separate ways, Russell and I headed back to the dorms. It was a pleasant night; a bit cool now that the sun had set, but the breeze was light. I shivered involuntarily, and Russell removed his jacket, placing it over my shoulders and leaving his arm draped over my back. I thanked him but didn't move any closer even though I could feel him gently tug me in his direction. We both knew that there would be nothing between us, "just friends", but it felt good to feel a warm, protective arm around me. I smiled up at him.

As we reached the entrance to my residence, he didn't let go but turned me in his arms, not giving me a chance to pull away, lowering his lips to mine. My first instinct was to pull back, but the feel of his warmth, the softness of his lips, I felt myself mould into his body and return the kiss. He took this as a signal to press forward, his large hands spanning my back, holding me in place. I began to panic and pulled slightly away, gently placing my hands on his broad chest.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this," I whispered breathlessly.

He lowered his forehead to mine, nose to nose, and lightened his grip.

"I leave in a couple of days. I just thought, maybe this once…" he appealed quietly.

"I'm sorry," I repeated softly.

"Will you come visit me? After all, you used to live there," he asked hopefully.

"Not anytime soon. I left because of bad memories. It still hurts," I replied.

"Maybe I can help you change those memories," he said tenderly.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. I need time to heal." And with that I stepped out of his arms, kissed him gently on the cheek, and said "good night." Whether he understood or not, I didn't know, but I could feel that he wanted more than I was capable of giving at this time.

We planned to meet again before he left.

As I climbed the stairs and walked the brightly lit corridor to my room, I felt a power around my door. I stopped and cautiously approached. A tingling sensation rode over my body as a spell was triggered, exposing a single, long-stemmed rose adhered to the white wood. It was the darkest red that I had ever seen, and a short note was attached with a thin ribbon. Releasing the rose, the note, and wards from the door, I entered my chamber to read the missive. It was short, and I knew the spidery script well.

_I couldn't let you fall._

_Congratulations._

_S_


	9. Chapt 8 Getting To Know You

**8 – Getting To Know You**

"What do you call this thing again?"

"A CAT scan."

"Was there really a cat involved in the making of this?"

"No. You're being silly."

"How is that silly? This contraption looks ridiculous."

"We've gone over this before, and we only have access for half an hour. You're wasting time."

"I'm not sure about this. What do I have to do again?"

"Nothing, just lie on the table and stay still."

It was the end of July, and John Radcliffe Hospital was nearly deserted at this late hour of the night. I had spent the past few weeks studying the various technologies available at the hospital, in conjunction with my doctorate research, but also in order to determine which would be most useful in the study with Remus. The CAT scan looked like a good first step in order to give an overall image of what we were dealing with. It was similar to an x-ray but took a series of images. Belby and I agreed that the chemical messages being sent from the brain were responsible for the monthly change of a werewolf, but we were at a loss as to which part of the brain the messages were being sent from. If this initial study went well, I would look into using an MRI next.

I had spent the past few days preparing: studying the mechanics of the machine, determining the best time to use it undetected, running various diagnostic tests on Remus, and explaining the procedure of the CAT scan to both Remus and Belby. Belby, much to his chagrin, would leave this part of the research up to me, as he had little experience with the Muggle technology. Remus and I planned "the mission". The CAT scan machine was on the fifth floor of the hospital and off limits to anyone without proper authorization, so we had to sneak in and out within half an hour, as that's when the nurse on duty was scheduled to make her rounds. I would keep my wand at the ready just in case she came back before we were finished. A quick Confundus Charm should do the trick.

Remus squirmed as he lay on the narrow, white vinyl table.

"Will this really take pictures of my brain?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Yes," I said absently as I adjusted the dials. "Hmm, maybe I should use a microscope instead?" I teased, looking up with a mischievous grin.

"Ha, ha," he replied dryly as he looked up at the dull ceiling. "Are you sure you know how to work this?"

"Yes," I reassured. "I wouldn't put you in danger. It's quite straightforward, and I have an excellent memory. I've been going over this for a week. Now, hush, so we can get on with it."

Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the table slowly moved toward the machine, and his head entered the opening. We were both quiet for a moment as the machine hummed and a bright light shone within. In short fashion the table moved out and stopped.

"That's it," I said cheerily.

"You're kidding. It's over?" Remus replied in disbelief.

"For you, for now. Yes. We have to wait a moment for the images to be ready, and then I can take a look at them. I hope to determine if there are any physical abnormalities that have been caused by the repetitious change and stresses on your nervous system, if there is a spot or area that shows the most depreciation. If there is, then we can focus our attention on finding what elements would protect that area, maybe even stop or reduce the change."

Remus grinned as he swung his feet off the table.

"I love it when you talk technical," he teased.

"Touche," I conceded, rolling my eyes, as I held out my hand to pull him down. "How do you feel?" I asked as he wobbled to the left.

"All right. The light was bright. Even through my eyelids I saw spots." He brushed his hair away from his forehead with long fingers as he rested his backside on the edge of the table, folding his arms across his chest.

I took the scans from the machine and placed them on the light screens, giving them a quick once over.

"That's me?" Remus asked coming up from behind and gazing over my shoulder.

"Yes," I smiled up at him. "I didn't think it would fill the screen. Your brain is bigger than I thought." He was such an easy target, and we both laughed. He had a nice laugh; it was more of a chuckle really, low and deep, from the heart. I liked hearing it, and I tried to make it happen often.

The wards that were set began to tingle, signalling the return of the nurse. I grabbed the film from the light screens and, casting simultaneous Disillusionment Charms, Remus and I quickly moved to the door and waited for her to pass. We, then, crept from the room and exited the hospital, heading back to my dorm.

The morning sun shone through the edge of the drawn curtains promising a bright, hot day. There were no clouds in the sky, and it was already warm, even at this early hour.

Remus had escorted me back to my room last night, and then left for his own place. We planned to meet at Belby's lab in the early afternoon to discuss the CAT scan results and investigate a next step. Belby had not been pleased with Remus' request to work exclusively with me. He felt slighted as this was originally his research, and I was a newcomer to it. He could have refused our merger but had relented, realizing that the result would probably come faster, and with it the recognition and rewards. I had to be careful.

Climbing out of bed, I yawned deeply and stretched my arms toward the ceiling. Toddling to the bathroom for a quick shower, the light 'pop' of Appartition signalled the arrival of Pinky. I smiled as the lukewarm water streamed over my skin. Pinky had become a very welcome part in my life, and I made it a point to thank her for her efforts. Although she worked for the Society of Potions Masters, Chairwizard Castwell allowed her to look after me, and I was grateful. Turning the shower off and wrapping a fluffy white towel around my body, I wandered into the bedroom to get dressed. Pinky was silently setting the table for breakfast: scrambled eggs and bacon, toast and jam, orange slices and tea. It smelled wonderful, and I told her so. She grinned a toothy grin at the praise, the tips of her ears turning rosy. As I dressed in a pale pink sundress and pulled my hair back with a matching ribbon, a light knock sounded at the door. A Seeing Spell showed Remus fidgeting on the other side. I opened the door and, giving him a questioning look, bade him to enter. He grinned at me mischievously, but the grin dropped when he saw the breakfast laid out.

"I've interrupted," he stated as his mouth began to water at the smell of the bacon.

"I was about to sit down. Would you like some?" I offered, pulling out a chair for him.

He shifted uncomfortably but sat in the chair opposite mine.

"Pinky, I have a guest. May we please have another plate of breakfast," I requested politely, and with that, a second plate appeared before Remus. Pinky refused to be seen.

His eyebrows rose at the invisible servant.

"House elf?" he asked.

"Yes, but she's not mine. I don't have one. Her master allows her to look after me?" I replied.

"Belby?"

"Goodness, no!" I snorted. "I don't think he likes me much. I'm just his ticket to getting the "cure" for lycanthrope. Speaking of which, I thought we were going to meet at Belby's later. Did I misunderstand something?"

"No, I was bored and thought I'd come over. I hope you don't mind. I, um, feel comfortable with you," he said shyly.

My lips twitched upward, and I felt a strange flutter in my stomach.

"I don't mind at all. I'm glad to have the company," I grinned.

As we ate breakfast the conversation ranged from our mutual mistrust of Belby, to my lack of decorating skills (he felt my room was a bit too sparse), to my teasing him again about the CAT scan machine. Time passed quickly, but there was still some time left before having to meet at Belby's.

"You know where I haven't been in ages," Remus said with a crooked smile. "Honeydukes."

"What's that?" I asked as my memory searched into my short school days at Hogwarts.

"I forgot you're not from around here. I think you might like it. It's a shop in Hogsmeade, a Wizard village near Hogwarts where I went to school. We have some time. Would you like to go?"

I looked at my watch and shrugged. We had a few hours to spare. Why not?

"Sure. It sounds like fun."

There were only a few visitors around Radcliffe Camera when Remus and I arrived, and we slipped into the secluded Apparition point unseen.

"Um, will you allow me to lead?" he asked. "Or, would you prefer a description of the place before we Apparate."

"I have no objection to your leading. I'd like us to arrive at the same place at the same time." I beamed up at him.

He held out his left elbow, and I slipped my hand through the crook. As he covered my hand with his, his smile grew as warm as the sun. We closed our eyes, and I felt a dizzying pull as we left Oxford for Hogsmeade.

The old wooden houses and shops hadn't changed in the years since I had last been here. Some were very small and very old, while others were larger and reasonably new, built within the last hundred years or so. There were only a few people on the packed dirt street, and no one gave us a second glance as we appeared from thin air near the centre square, just off of the main road. I released Remus' arm and looked around the quaint village. It was like something from a Dickens story. As we stood there, an old wizard passed us and nodded his head in greeting while a young witch tried to soothe a small child who wanted desperately to ride the Bouncing Broom outside one of the shops. I stood, absorbing the energies of hundreds of years of magic in one small area. It was exhilarating. Finally looking up, I saw Remus watching me, patiently waiting. I blushed, a bit embarrassed at being caught staring.

"Do you have anything like this where you're from?" he asked quietly.

"No. I grew up in a Muggle community and have always lived among Muggles. The Strada Di Stegra in Rome is much like your Diagon Alley, but this is something else, like another world."

His lips twitched upward as I couldn't hide the awe in my voice. It was as if he enjoyed introducing me to something new and took pleasure in my reaction.

"Where is this place that you were talking about? Honeydukes?" I asked trying to draw his attention away from me and back on task.

"Down the road to the left. Come on. You'll like it." He set a pace, and I followed closely until we reached a shop that had two huge glass windows across the front that boasted a wide variety of sweets in various shapes, sizes and colours. My eyes grew wide, and my companion grinned like a schoolboy. He held the door open for me as we stepped into the sugary smelling structure. A young woman entered from the rear of the store carrying a large box and asked if we needed assistance. Remus told her that we hadn't decided yet, and she went about her business of unpacking a fresh package of Cockroach Clusters.

Remus stepped behind me as I gazed at the confections behind the glass counter.

"See anything you like," he asked curiously.

"I'm a woman," I chuckled at him, "with a counter of chocolate spread before me. What do you think?"

A low chuckle emerged from deep within his chest, and he called the clerk over.

"What would you like?" he asked as I drooled over the selection.

My head shot up. "No. I coul…"

He held his hand up to stop me. "You're working hard to help me. You fed me breakfast this morning, along with countless other meals over the past few months. This is the least I can do. Please, allow me. What would you like?" He insisted.

"What has nuts in it?" I asked the clerk, and she pointed out several selections of chocolate covered almonds, chestnuts, cashews and hazelnuts. I chose a chunk of the almond bark, and she wrapped it in a piece of brown paper. Remus chose a bag of Coconut Crunchies, and we happily exited the shop with our goodies.

Strolling down the main avenue toward the edge of town, nibbling on the chocolate, I thanked Remus and assured him that it wasn't necessary. Work was my life, and I had chosen to find a treatment for lycanthrope. It was something I wanted to do. To which he replied, brushing a few crumbs from the edge of my mouth with his thumb, "And buying you chocolate was something I wanted to do." How could I argue with such reasoning?

Reaching the town's perimeter and following the path toward the hills, Remus stopped near a grassy knoll and transfigured a blanket from a leaf for us to sit on. By now, the sun was high, and the heat felt good on the skin. I sat with my head tipped back, my face toward the sun, absorbing the energy, and I automatically recited a prayer under my breath.

"Glorious Sun God, Ruler of Day,

Shine in the morn to light my way.

Fill me with your warmth and power,

Stay with me 'til the darkening hour."

I could feel the rays pulse, and the heat rise almost as if in response.

"That was beautiful," Remus nearly whispered. "Are you Wiccan?"

"Yes," I breathed, slowly raising my head and turning to look at him. Our eyes locked, and I could see deep into his soul. There was much loneliness, much sadness, but also a twinge of hope. He looked away quickly.

"You shouldn't have done that," he replied abruptly.

"Done what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Legilimens," he countered sharply, gazing over the landscape.

"I didn't," I responded, sitting straighter beside him. "But, I suppose there's something you should know about me. I'm an Empath."

Remus' head spun in my direction, a perplexed look on his face. "Old magic," he stated. "That's rare."

"Yes, and not a piece of information I often share. It's hereditary. My mother and grandmother could do it, too, but apparently not as well as I can. My grandfather made me practice…and practice…" I paused for a moment. "It's not something I usually tell people. Could you please keep it to yourself. I only told you because of what just happened. I didn't mean to pry. I'm usually more considerate than that. I didn't intend to do it. Forgive me?"

"Of course," he nodded. "I didn't mean to be so sensitive."

"You had every right to, and I am sorry," I apologized sincerely.

Continuing our walk along the countryside, we came to a familiar path that led from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Strolling the crushed stone trail up the steep incline, I had to stop and catch my breath. Although I jogged regularly, I felt out of shape. There was once a time when a hike like this was welcome and invigorating. It reminded me of the hills behind the cottage in Tuscany. Remus held out his hand to pull me along, his rough fingers wrapping around mine comfortably. As we reached a flat plateau, he turned to gaze at me with a look I hadn't seen from anyone in a long time. Promptly releasing my hand, he turned away. I hadn't worn the appropriate clothes for hiking, and my dress was beginning to cling. Wisps of hair became unfastened from the ribbon and plastered themselves to the sides of my face. I was flushed, and I could feel it. I could also feel Remus watching me again from sideways glances. We had stopped in front of an old, rickety structure on a small hill behind a dilapidated fence. It was my turn to approach him. Standing beside him, looking up at the run-down building, we stood in silence of a moment.

"This is where I come two, sometimes three, days of every month," he uttered softly. "Home sweet home," he snorted silently.

I stood, not knowing what to say. I had seen the Shrieking Shack before, had heard the stories about the screams and howls that the villagers heard. Remus had avoided this place when we were in school, now it was making sense. I placed my hand on the centre of his back in a gesture of comfort and could feel pain being emitted.

He turned away from the building with a great sigh and said, "Now we've each shared a secret." His smile was unsure. "It's getting late. We should go see Belby."

I nodded silently and followed him down the path and away from his once-a-month home. He stayed a few paces ahead of me, and I could feel him trying to put an emotional distance between us. I had to respect that. After all, we had a lot of research to do together.


	10. Chapt 9 Between Two Worlds

**9 – Between Two Worlds**

Albus sat in the large, fan-backed armchair by the unlit fireplace, his elbows resting on the cushioned arms, his fingers steepled under his chin. The merry glint that usually shone in his bright blue eyes was gone, and he was lost in thought. A scrap of cream coloured parchment lay on the low table in front of him, and he eyed it suspiciously. The owl had arrived nearly an hour ago, surprising Albus as this was a safe house, unplottable. How did the owl find its way here? The note was short but provided enough information to unnerve the aging wizard.

Albus and I met at this house when we needed to speak face-to-face. It was the house that I had been transported to from my funeral pyre several years ago, the one where Severus had nursed me back to health, and the one that Severus and I had used, on occasion, to meet secretly when I was in England. It was filled with bittersweet memories, but it was also the safest location to meet.

I returned to the small library with a tray of tea and biscuits and placed it on the side table between the twin armchairs.

"Do you think you could do it?" Albus asked quietly, still deep in thought. He looked so much older when he was worried.

"Honestly, it would not be wise," I replied settling myself in the vacant chair beside him and pouring the tea. "The culture is very different from the western world. Women are seen as supremely inferior and are kept covered and hidden. They have no say in how their lives are run and are certainly not asked for their opinions. It would not be advisable for me to go. A man would be more effective."

He sighed and lowered his hands to his lap, toying with the brocade edge of this robe. I handed him a cup of tea, and he nodded his thanks.

"Can you trust this report?" I asked, trying to be as tactful as possible while being straightforward. I figured that if the owl had made it to Albus at a safe house that meant one of two things, either our security had been breached or the owl was from a highly trusted informant and very urgent.

"I would like to think I can trust this individual, but in reality, there are few people that I trust completely," he replied gazing in to the empty fireplace.

I nodded in understanding. Even though we worked with a variety of individuals, any one of them could turn or be used against us. Already many had been discovered as being under the Imperious Curse during the war. We had to be careful.

"Severus may be the logical choice to send. Are you in contact with him at all?" he inquired through sips of tea.

"No," I sighed. "The last time we spoke was Yule last year, and it wasn't pleasant. He's blocked me out. But, apparently he was at my graduation. He sent me a rose and a very brief note."

Albus' eyebrows rose almost to his receding hairline, and a flicker of a smile played across his lips.

"Really? And, yet he refuses to speak with you?"

"Yes. It hurts, but I've realized that I have to let go. If not, I won't be able to focus properly."

Albus nodded sadly in agreement. "Do you still love him?"

"Yes, I think I always will, but life goes on. It's no use pining for someone who doesn't want anything to do with you." I paused at that thought. "How is he doing at the school?"

"He plays his part well. He's Head of Slytherin. Only the three of us know that Voldemort is not truly gone, and he must maintain the image of one still loyal to the Dark side. That charm of his is very effective. The image that he has built will be useful in the future. I'm not surprised that he's blocked you out. You were the most positive influence in his life. He was a different person when he was with you."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair remembering some of the times that Severus and I spent together. I smiled to myself, and Albus noticed.

"A good memory?" he inquired with hope in his voice.

I nodded. "He had borrowed a friend's motorbike and drove it around the village. I swear he pouted when he had to give it back."

Albus chuckled lightly at the thought.

"How is the work with Remus and Mr. Belby?" He changed the subject noticing my eyes begin to glaze over.

"It's progressing well," I replied, snapping out of a growing depressing mood. "I think we may have located the section of Remus' brain where the chemical change occurs for lycanthrope. We need to do some further testing before we can create any potions."

"Ever the cautious one." Albus' fingers steepled at his lips as a slight smile spread across his face, and the twinkle began to return.

I smiled back. "It's kept me alive this far."

Darkness fell, and dinner had passed. This was the longest that Albus and I had spent together in years. It was nice and comfortable. Granted, most of the talk was about work and plans and what if's, but it was becoming more natural. I guess, maybe, I'd just accepted that this is how our relationship was. We had one focus, and that was the fight against those that still supported the Dark side.

I was the first to leave from the fenced-in backyard of the small stone house. We were far enough in the country that there were no immediate neighbours. Albus was still puttering around the kitchen as I departed. He had agreed to speak with Severus regarding the information that had arrived earlier. That would mean a trip to the Near East before the students returned to class. I would provide as much information as I could, forwarding the names of my contacts. Albus still thought that I was the best person to track Voldemort but conceded that in this case, a wizard would have the best luck at obtaining the required information.

Professor Kurtz sat behind a small, steel desk in an office that was no bigger than a large broom closet. The room was cluttered with books and folders that were piled on every available surface, from the desk and file cabinets to the floor. It looked as if a paper-recycling factory had exploded. The door was ajar by a couple of inches, and I was able to see him leaning forward in his seat, frantically scratching out notes on the loose leaf in front of him. I hesitated, trying to determine the best moment to knock. He paused and leaned back, bringing the pen to rest between his teeth, tapping his left index finger on the desk in front of him. His pock-marked face was in its permanent scowl as he re-read what he had written.

I knocked, and the door pushed open slightly.

"What?" he hollered sharply, showing a slight startle.

I pushed the door open further and stepped into the entranceway.

"Oh, it's you," he said curling his lip as if smelling something distasteful.

"We have an appointment," I ventured, not wanting to infringe, without invitation, on this man's already cramped space.

He glanced at his watch, and his upper lip curled again. "Shit!" I guess he'd lost track of time.

"If you wish, we could re-schedule, and you can finish what you were working on. I understand what it's like to be on a roll and then be interrupted."

He humphed as he pushed the papers into a neutral-coloured folder.

"I'm already interrupted," he snapped, tossing the folder onto the nearest pile.

I pulled my research out of my rucksack and sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"I've found a subject who is willing to participate in my study. We've spoken on many occasions, and while you were on holiday, I took the initiative to do some initial tests. I've brought them for you to look over."

I handed him a folder of research, with slightly abridged information, that I had been doing on Remus. He took it and gave it a quick once over, while sitting casually back in his chair.

"Interesting," he replied. "What do you think your next move should be?" He actually sounded interested.

"The hospital that he's dealing with will not release any of his medical records, understandably." _Understandably,_ I thought, _you would never understand the information from St. Mungo's about this man's condition. _ "I would like to run an MRI to determine which part of the brain seems to be affected the most from his illness. I predict that this test will pinpoint the appropriate spot to focus on. I have considered several possibilities as to where the glitch, for lack of a better word, may lie. However, I need confirmation of my theory, and thus, authorization for the use of the machine." I looked hopefully in Kurtz's direction.

He pursed his thin, pale lips, and raised his eyes without raising his head. There was a moment of silence, and I could hear his rough breathing.

"I did a little research myself this summer," he began ominously. "I found out certain things that…surprised me." He jutted out his chin and brought his right hand to rest under it, his elbow on the arm of the chair. His glare was piercing. "I found out that a certain Masters student never did an undergraduate degree. This student had "apprenticed" somewhere and was given special admittance because of the work that they had done. No further details were given." He paused, watching for a reaction, but I sat very still, impassively glaring back. "Care to elaborate?" he coaxed menacingly.

"Exactly what do you want to know?" I asked seriously, not letting him bully me. I could tell him some things; enough to satisfy his curiosity, and maybe even get him to lighten up a bit and view me as a competent researcher.

"Tell me some of your past," he instructed.

My eyebrows rose, and a quirky smile played on my lips. Mischief was rising, and I couldn't stop it. "I could begin with, "and so I was born" but my story began even before that…" I smiled impishly at him. He was not impressed.

"Oh, alright," I rapidly thought of the quickest way to say what he needed to know in order to avoid any further questions. Taking a deep breath, I began, "My parents were killed when I was fifteen. A benefactor took me in, and I was privately tutored, managing to pass all required general education courses about a year before the required date. One of my tutors saw a propensity for sciences and encouraged that path. He was a …chemist. By the time I was twenty-one, I had completed an apprentice position in chemistry and pharmacology and was offered a job in a medical research facility in Rome. I worked in a lab for nearly two years dealing with upgrading existing medicines used in the local hospital. I had a desire to continue my formal education in medical research, and the organization that I worked for encouraged my studies. I was able to obtain a special admittance based on my education, apprenticeship and experience but did not want that information to taint or sway anyone's opinion or view, so I kept it quiet." I finished and looked him straight in the eyes. I could sense a mixture of awe and respect that he refused to show. I could also see him doing a quick mental math.

"You're only twenty-five?" he questioned in restrained surprise.

"Yes, this July just past," I answered.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

With another quick review of my research, the authorization was granted, although this time I had to make an appointment with the appropriate department at the hospital. No more sneaking in, and even though Professor Kurtz practically threw the authorization papers at me and sneered as he handed back my file, I left his office with the distinct impression that we were now on a different level with each other.


	11. Chapt 10 Stalemate

**10 – Stalemate**

"You know how I feel about this. The answer is still - no!" Remus stormed at Belby, his usually pale features flushing with anger.

Once again, Belby was insisting on studying Remus during the full moon, and Remus was holding fast with his refusal. I had tried to intervene during the last argument, and the result was most unpleasant. Remus refused to have any contact with us for nearly two weeks. We were at a standstill. The MRI that was performed a month ago clearly pinpointed two glands that seemed to control the intracellular transmission system that was malfunctioning. These glands were slightly larger than they should have been and, in an initial test, responded both positively and negatively to different stimuli. We needed to track the changes in these glands and the signals being sent during the change, but Remus was being uncooperative. I stayed out of it this time. Maybe he'll rant to me later, and I'll be able to talk him into it. I'd have to wait and see.

I had thought to speak with Albus about this but really didn't want to involve him, even though Remus had gone to him to complain about the situation. Albus had far too much on his mind at the moment. Severus had gone to the Near East to follow Voldemort's trail and had been very successful. His lack of knowledge of the country and customs was a hindrance, but he learned quickly, and his personal demeanour was one that the males in that area could relate to. He discovered that Voldemort had changed hosts several times, even to the point of taking a human host. However, each transition eventually cost the host its life, leaving a trail of bodies. He seemed to be heading for North Africa. When I was working with the Italian Ministry, I had discovered that certain countries in the North were supportive of Voldemort's philosophies and were sympathetic to his cause. He may try to seek asylum there.

Severus had returned on the evening prior to the first day of classes having very little time to prepare, but his highly organized mind immediately set to the various tasks of establishing himself as the most reviled teacher at the school. In his role, he would also need to identify which parents still supported the Dark side and which had merely been pawns in the war. His function as spy was far from over, and my heart went out to him. He was completely immersed in his charms and spells. He didn't even look like the man I knew. In late summer, I had an opportunity to see him briefly at a symposium given by the Society. I thought to approach him, to thank him for the rose, but when he saw me he steered away and, after thinking for a moment, I supposed that he was probably right. He needed to concentrate on what lay ahead, as did I.

It was very late when a light knock sounded on my door. Casting the usual spell, I opened it to allow Remus in. He looked drawn and tired and very frustrated. Before I could offer him a seat, he agitatedly began to pace the centre of my chamber.

"I know you need to do this," he began nervously, stopping before the lit trio set on the dresser. "But, please understand how difficult this is for me." He paused, gathering his nerve to continue. "This is something that I have not shared with anyone in a very long time. Besides the pack, my parents, and my best friends, very few knew what I am. Belby tried to help before, and it didn't work. My parents are gone, two best friends are dead, one is in prison, and now I'm being asked to open myself up to examination again. I do understand how important this is, but it's hard. I don't want to hurt anyone, especially you, and I can't guarantee that that won't happen." He turned and took a large pace to stand before me. "I _can't_ let that happen," he repeated gravely.

I tipped my head to look him in the eyes. He was scared. Running my right hand down his arm, I grasped his hand tightly and assured, "I'm glad you realize how important this is. We, I," I corrected with a grin because we still weren't certain about Belby's motives, "only want to help. You know that we can't go any further until you allow us in, but I'm willing to wait a little longer. Maybe we can come up with some kind of arrangement. Maybe I can follow you from a distance. I'm quite good at stealth." I grinned into his serious face.

"I would still smell you. A werewolf's sense of smell is very acute, and you have a distinct scent," he replied looking down at me.

"Are you saying I smell?" I joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

"This is no joke, Daniella," he continued seriously. "I have no control over my actions when I'm in that state. I would be devastated if I hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," I reassured. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve that you don't know about, but I'll be patient…for a while… as long as you understand that we must progress."

"I understand, but I also want you to understand the dangers."

"I do."

The mid-October dreariness cast everything to the shadows. Heavy clouds threatened rain, but none had fallen yet. Candles were lit in Belby's lab casting a glow against the walls. We had been working on the MRI scans again and researching the isotones that the glands produced. We had also been testing some new ingredients that we were confident would have an effect on the nervous system, ones that I had procured in Switzerland a month ago on a very quick trip. There was something in the chemical composition of the brain that altered when the moon was full, but we weren't certain if the curse reacted to a twenty-eight day cycle or the gravitational pull of the moon, but there was a definite biological basis. It was a tough call, especially with an uncooperative subject.

Belby leaned forward, his brow furrowed, his glasses at the end of his nose, and took one of the books that lay open in front of me. He flipped the pages back and forth between two passages, comparing the studies. I had been doing the same with another set of articles. There had to be something here.

"So," he began abruptly, not raising his head, "you haven't had any luck convincing Mr. Lupin?"

"No," I replied, still reading the text. "He's concerned for our safety. You know that he can't control his actions in that state. He's afraid that he may cause us harm."

"May cause _you_ harm," he corrected with a twitch of his lips. "I don't think he cares whether he causes me harm or not."

"That's not true," I rose my head to look in his direction. "Mr. Lupin is a gentle man. I don't think that he would want to cause anyone harm."

Belby humphed and resumed his reading. "Well, I hope he changes his mind soon. I'd like to get on with this. We're at a stalemate"

I nodded. We couldn't move forward without Remus' cooperation.

I stood at the edge of the forest as the sun began to set, the chill of the evening settling in. Remus would be so upset if he knew what I was about to do, but the last conversation I had with Belby prompted my action. Stalemate. He was right. All I needed right now was to determine what happened at what time of the night, to have a rough estimate that would give me an indication whether the gravitational pull of the moon was responsible for triggering the curse, and thus, the change. I stood, waiting.

The moon rose above the edge of the trees, the Goddess in all Her glory. I stepped from the perimeter, making my way to the grassy knoll where Remus and I had sat during the summer. Without casting a circle, I called to the Goddess Moon and to the Elemental Guardians, explaining what needed to be done and why, and asked for their guidance and protection. The moon's white aura shimmered as I spoke and stretched toward the earth, and the earth vibrated faintly as the rays touched the ground. I felt an overpowering presence. They would be with me.

My head spun sharply as an eerie howl sounded from the Shrieking Shack. The change had occurred. I quickly noted the height of the moon and the time of night and crept toward the wooden fence. Remus would emerge and probably head toward the forest. I didn't know if he would join the pack or not, but I stayed low and waited, leaning against a thick fence post, Omnioculars in hand.

Finally, a dark figure came into view from the far side of the neglected structure and, as I predicted, headed for the trees, its loping gait indicative of a werewolf. I followed at a distance, my years of jogging being put to the test over uneven terrain. The moon was high, and I felt the Goddess and Guardians with me, and although I was afraid, I felt safe as I entered the Forbidden Forest, a good thirty feet behind my target.

Remus spent most of the night alone simply wandering the woods. His single encounter with another werewolf was one that ended in a fight. I sat, frozen in my spot, too frightened to move as the werewolves battled over territory. At one point, they both tipped their heads back, sniffing the air and turning in my direction. As they began to move toward my location, a strong gust of wind blew my scent away, and they steered back to the clearing. The fight was over. _Thank you Guardian of the Eastern Quadrant_. Remus received a large gash on his right shoulder and a slice across his left cheek. I thought that they would leave scars if not tended to promptly. The other werewolf faired just as badly.

Moments before dawn, as the moon sat on the horizon and the sun glowed below the opposite horizon, Remus returned to the Shrieking Shack, almost as if he consciously knew that it was time to go home. Did he, at some point, start to recognize his actions, even in the changed state, or was it instinct that drew him back? I added this information to the notepad that had rapidly filled with events from the night. Waiting outside by the fence until the moon had completely set and the sun began to glow through the dark clouds, I thanked the Goddess and the Guardians for protecting me.

Ducking under the top fence post, I jogged up the hill to the shack and crept in. The battle-scarred front door was slightly ajar and creaked as it opened. Standing at the bottom of a rickety, dusty stairwell, I listened for any sound of movement from the floor above. There was none. Hesitatingly climbing the stairs, I paused when one creaked under foot, and held my breath for a moment before continuing. At the top, on the small landing, three wooden doors were present. I reached out empathically for Remus and moved to the door directly ahead. It was half open, and I cautiously poked my head around the edge. The room was of medium size, containing a couple of broken chairs, an old wardrobe with a shattered mirror and a double bed with tattered, grimy sheets. The fireplace against the far wall looked like it hadn't been used in years, and the sunlight of early dawn was having enough difficulty struggling through the clouds and was even duller as it tried to penetrate the filth that covered the window. Remus lay on the bed, huddled in a ragged grey blanket, shivering in the cold. His exhaustion from the night's ordeal rendered him incapable to tending to himself. I stood, trying to decide what to do. Morally, I was compelled to help, but I knew that he would be horribly upset with me if he knew what I had done, but if I left him as he was, with that shabby, old blanket half wrapped around his naked body, he would freeze and become sick. I couldn't let that happen. I decided to accept the consequences of my actions and do what I knew was right.

Silently, I entered the room and drew my wand. The night's events had taken a toll on me as well. My energy reserves were low. A flick of my wand transfigured the old blanket into a soft, down-filled comforter. Another flick cast a Warming Charm on the room, and the chill was promptly taken from the air. I moved to the bed and cast a Diagnostic Charm over the exhausted man, checking the glands and the isotones. The levels were incredibly high. Shifting the comforter away from his shoulder and face to tend to his wounds, I noted that his shivering had diminished, and he lay comfortably still as I cast a Healing Spell. Exhausted, I stumbled to the opposite side of the bed and sat in the unstable wooden chair. Its straight back was missing a rung and was uncomfortable and hard, but as I pulled my coat tightly around me, my head tipped forward, and I was asleep within seconds.

Jolting awake as the grey mid-morning light struggled through the grimy window, I shivered in the cold. The Warming Charm had worn off at some point, and the chill had infiltrated the room. Too tired to recast the spell, I transfigured my coat into a quilt and rolled onto the bed beside Remus. He was snuggled deeply under the comforter, and I lay on top wrapped in the quilt. Sleep came quickly again.

A sudden jerk from the opposite side of the bed startled me awake. I was on my side facing the edge and rolled onto my back to find Remus propped on his forearms, his hair tousled, eyes blurry and unfocused as he gazed around the room eventually landed on me. A variety of emotions crossed his face from anger to embarrassment and back to anger. I had betrayed his trust. I knew it and would have to deal with it.

"Good morning," I said sheepishly, poking my head out from the comfort of the quilt. "Before you bite my head off, let me apologize. I went against your wishes, and I deserve your anger."

"Bite your head of?" he snapped. "Poor choice of words." His face was beginning to flush. "When did you get here? Did you follow me last night?"

"Yes, I followed you," I answered, knowing that the truth was best.

"From when?" he shot out again.

"I arrived before sunset and waited near the forest. I followed you through the night and when you came back here, I followed you in."

"You're obviously good. You're still alive. Had I discovered you, I could very well have bitten your head off." He shook his head and pressed his face into the musty pillow.

I rolled onto my side to face him, pulling the comforter over his bare shoulders.

"But, you never knew that I was there. I told you I was good at stealth," I replied softly, leaning my head onto my hand.

He raised his face from the pillow and stared at the cast-iron rungs of the headboard, his face and neck growing scarlet.

"You realize that I'm naked under this blanket."

"You realize that that's not the same smelly, old blanket."

He looked at the comforter for the first time, and his face landed in the pillow again, this time from embarrassment.

"You'll also notice," I continued, "that I am not under the same comforter. I stumbled onto the bed a few hours ago when it was cold, and I was too tired to cast a Warming Charm."

He raised his face again; his eyes moist, having left wet patches of the pillow. He looked at me for the first time, his eyes encircled with dark rings. He was still recovering, and I yawned deeply, covering my mouth with my left hand and turning my head away. I guess I was recovering, too. Reaching up and adjusting the comforter again over his shoulders, my lips twitched up.

"If you don't mind, I really could use some more sleep," I said, yawning again.

He nodded slightly and lowered his head to the pillow, watching me as I rolled onto my back and then onto my opposite side. I felt him shift as well. I guess he rolled over, too. My mind was filled with a dozen things as I drifted back to sleep.

It must have been early afternoon when I woke again. Rolling over, I couldn't feel Remus beside me. Opening one eye, I saw him standing at the wardrobe, his back to me. I held my breath. His back muscles rippled as he reached for his clothes that were neatly folded in a pile on a shelf and as he bent to pull on his boxers, I couldn't help but follow the length of those long legs to his well-formed buttocks. I had to bite my lips to stop from grinning. All decency told me to turn my head, close my eyes, look away, but I couldn't. His battle-worn body and strong muscle development held my attention until he pulled his grey wool sweater over his head and began to turn around. I shifted and pretended to stir, acting as if just waking up. Stretching, I looked up at him as he approached the bed.

"Plan to stay there all day?" he asked tersely. He was still angry.

"It's warm," I replied with a playful grin but relented under his glare. "But, I suppose if I must get up…" I threw the warm covers off and shook myself awake as he continued to gaze at me. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I watched as Remus moved carefully around the room, stretching and shifting his arms, legs and body. He was trying to determine his condition.

"You were hurt last night. I tended to your wounds. You should still be in bed," I said as I transfigured the quilt back into my jacket.

"Did you get the information you needed?" His tone was not as sharp.

"Some, but not all. That was just one night. I would have to do a series of studies in order to have a definite base of information."

"You'd have to do this again?" He sounded concerned.

"Yes, a few times."

He sighed but kept his back to me. "I can't control what I do…" he said quietly.

"I know, and I understand. I'm not being cocky, but I know that you won't hurt me."

"I wish I was as confident as you."

I smiled at him as I approached his side. Wrapping my arm around his waist in a gesture of support, I gave him a slight squeeze. "I have faith in you and in my Goddess."

His frown slowly softened and with a slight nod, he finally agreed. I would continue as I did last night, but I would have to keep my distance.


	12. Chapt 11 Cold Nights, Warm Hearts

**11 – Cold Nights, Warm Hearts**

Dreary and damp October slid into dull November, which imperceptibly moved into frosty December. My thesis at the university was moving along at a good pace. Both of my advisors seemed pleased with the progress, although Professor Kurtz would never openly admit it. Thankfully, he was no longer actively antagonistic toward me. Maybe it was because the research in the pharmacology lab would begin soon, and he knew that he would see less of me. I smiled at the thought. The work with Belby was progressing as well. We had gone over his potions notes that were used in the past trials, and with the new information we had from Remus, we were able to narrow down our repertoire of new ingredients and processing procedures. I figured that we should be able to come up with the first trial potion by January. My fingers were crossed.

Remus had kept his word, and I had kept mine. He let Belby examine him the day before the change, and November's full moon found me at the edge of the forest waiting for the change to occur. Like the month before, I tracked him through the woods during the night, and when dawn sat on the horizon and he returned to the Shrieking Shack, I waited by the fence for what seemed like an eternity, and then followed him in. Opening the decrepit front door and climbing the stairs to the landing above, I paused and took a cleansing breath, shifting a small rucksack on my back. I was tired but this was the only way to get the information that was needed. Pushing the wooden bedroom door open, I took in the sight. Remus was sound asleep bundled snugly in the comforter that I had transfigured last month, but there was more. The room was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. The broken chairs were gone, traded for an old lounge by the fireplace, and the shattered glass from the wardrobe mirror was swept away. It even looked like the room had been dusted, and the old fireplace cleaned out. There was a stack of spilt logs near the hearth and a pile set on the grate ready to be lit. I couldn't help but smile. A flick of my wand and a whispered _"Incendio"_ had the fire crackling merrily, almost instantly staving off the November chill.

Moving to the bed, I cast a thorough Diagnostic Charm over Remus. The glands were highly enlarged, but the isotones being produced appeared to be slowing in their firing. If the intracellular transmission system was sending such rapid signals now, I could only imaging the agitated state Remus must have been in yesterday when he was with Belby.

Finishing the examination and exhausted from the night, I stumbled to the other side of the bed and curled up in the lounge by the fire, falling asleep almost instantly. Remus had not been injured this time, I was thankful for that, but the transformation always took a toll on him, and he would sleep for quite a while.

When the sun shone through the newly cleaned window and both of us began to stir, I smiled over at him as he shifted in the bed.

"What do you think?" he asked groggily, nodding toward the room.

"I'm impressed. Did you do this for me?" I responded from my cozy confines of the quilt.

He didn't reply, just smiled, and rolled onto his back, starting to get out of bed. I smirked.

"Do you mind?" he asked as he sat with his back to me, using his finger to indicate that I divert my eyes.

"Not at all," I grinned mischievously not moving but waving my hand for him to proceed.

He gave me a look over his left shoulder, his eyes gazing from under that fringe of hair that made me sigh in mock defeat as I turned away, grinning. I could hear the creak of the rusty bedsprings, as he got up to get dressed. When he was done, I began to unpack my rucksack. Spreading a small cloth over an old crate, I laid out half a loaf of whole wheat bread, a couple of bananas, some cheese, and a bottle of water. One thing I had observed the last time was that Remus' potassium and electrolyte levels were low and needing replenishing the day after the change. It may have been an odd combination but breakfast was necessary. I was hungry, too. Taking his vital signs again prior to the meal, we ate in companionable silence.

December snuck in silently and with it the Society's annual Yule celebration. I was determined to have a good time this year. Albus had not requested my presence elsewhere yet as we had a pretty good idea where Voldemort was at the moment. The university was slowing its schedule for the holidays, and Belby had taken his wife away to visit family. Pinky was spending more time at the Society helping to make preparations for the party, and I decided to treat myself with a visit to Diagon Alley. In the years that I had been attending the university, I had nearly exhausted my savings from working at the Ministry and was now beginning to spend some of my inheritance. By nature, I wasn't the frivolous type, but I hadn't bought anything new in years and felt it was time. I remembered seeing a nice robe in a shop window the last time I went for Alchemy supplies. A visit to that shop was on my list of things to do.

The trip to Diagon Alley had not been as successful as I had hoped but a side trip into Muggle London balanced the experience well. I was very pleased with the results as I walked the crush stone path from the Apparition Garden to the Manor House. As usual, the manor shone with faerie lights and candles. The pristine white face of the structure was adorned with red and green holly wreaths below each window and juniper bows on the doors. Festive music drifted into the night through the open entrance. Climbing the wide flagstone steps, I entered the lobby and was greeted immediately by a familiar pink-eared house elf. There were several people in the entranceway, handing their cloaks to other elves, chatting with acquaintances, or preparing to enter the reception room to join the party. On the far side of the room, a familiar, tall wizard in a formal black robe with green and silver trim was arriving via the Floo. He sneered at a trembling little elf that offered his hands to accept the wizard's cloak. I twitched a mischievous smile as I spied the man. Oh, I was going to have fun tonight! Pinky watched the scene cautiously and gently cleared her throat; bringing my attention back to the present situation. I was still wearing my cloak, and she was waiting to take it. As Severus raised his head and glanced my way, heading toward the reception room with the others, I slid the cloak from my shoulders revealing my new purchase. The robe was royal blue, almost the same colour as my eyes, and the sheer, lace bell sleeves rested on the edge of my shoulders, barely hanging on. The satin bodice with lace façade clung neatly to my body, its low scoop neck accentuating my bust line, which was enhanced by my Muggle purchase of a bustier. The satin skirt swished seductively around my ankles as I moved to hand the cloak to Pinky. I had darkened my hair slightly for the evening and had pulled it back with a gemmed circlet positioned like a hair band. The necklace and earring set matched it nicely. The necklace, a gemmed witch's knot, nestled neatly at the top of my cleavage. I could feel all eyes on me as I moved toward Severus who had stopped in the doorway.

"Happy Yule," I smirked as I passed him and entered the brightly lit chamber.

Delicately lifting a glass of champagne from a passing elf, I ran my finger around the rim and took a sip, glancing demurely over my shoulder to see his response. Severus stared after me, grabbing a glass from the same elf and downing the contents in one gulp. I started to snicker to myself as I moved deeper into the room to greet Master Castwell and some of the senior Masters. Oh yes, I was going to have fun tonight!

It seemed that Severus' eyes followed my every move during the evening from his perch in the corner of the room. I enjoyed the attention bestowed on me by the single wizards (and some of the married ones) in attendance, and flirted mercilessly, but not shamelessly. It was all in good fun. Severus sneered and scowled at everyone who came near and played his role well, only it didn't seem like a role anymore. It came too naturally.

Making my way to the refreshment table, I felt a presence approach from the rear, and turning to reach for a piece of fruit, I knocked over someone's abandoned glass, spilling the contents over the table. Before I could clean it up, it was cleaned up for me.

"How clumsy," the voice hissed in my ear.

I turned to smile sweetly at the foul-tempered wizard. "We all have our moments," I replied. "Thank you," I indicated to the now-clean table.

He didn't reply but turned his back to me to scan the room. I took the opportunity to walk away, wondering if he'd follow. Depositing my glass with a house elf with a collecting tray, I exited the reception room and headed up the black and white marble staircase in the main entranceway. As I reached the top, I glanced back and there he was at the bottom, paused, waiting. Our eyes met, and he followed.

I sauntered to the end of the hallway feeling him approach. Scanning the area for anyone else and finding that we were alone, I cast strong wards on either end of the corridor, trapping him with me. I turned to smirk at my ex-lover.

"We need to talk," I said pleasantly, gliding slowly in front of him, my hands behind my back, giving him an unimpeded view of my…necklace. The skirt swished back and forth as I moved, creating a sensual sound.

Severus kept his demeanour in control. "You've blocked me in," he said flatly.

"You're a wizard. If you want out, you could get out." The mischief had reached my eyes, and the blue sparkled as I coyly smiled up at him.

"I take it we're alone?" he asked quirking his right eyebrow.

I nodded slowly.

With that, his tone softened, and he took a step forward. "You look incredible," he breathed as he stopped, our toes almost touching.

"So do you," I whispered back. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, but I held back, not certain if I could stop if I did.

I took a small step back. "I hear things went well in the Near East," I began nonchalantly.

"You didn't trap me here for that, did you?" he snorted. "What is it you want?" he snapped.

Feeling my anger rise at the sudden change of his tone, I shot back, "I want you to stop snapping at me to start with. I want us to be civil to each other. The war is over, and although I realize that our roles are not, there is no reason why we can't speak when we're alone. Severus," I pleaded more gently. "It's been two years. It's time to move on."

"Is that what you've done? Moved on? I've heard of your work with the wolf. Is it more? Is that what this is about?" His anger flared as he shot out at me.

"No, it's not. The silence between us is as painful as the events that drove us apart. Severus, I love you. I always will, but if we can't be together, then let's at least be civil with each other. We've been through too much, and we're going to need each other eventually."

His starched comportment deflated, and his appearance softened slightly as he looked me over.

"I'm…sorry," he uttered.

"Ouch, that must have hurt," I replied, my smirk coming back slowly.

He quirked his eyebrow again as his lips began to turn upward. I wouldn't call it a smile, but at least it wasn't a frown.

We found a couple of spindly chairs at the end of the corridor and were able to sit and talk, uninterrupted, for nearly an hour. I thanked him for the rose at graduation, and we avoided the topic of our work with Albus, focusing mainly on our jobs and research. He loathed teaching; the noise was unbearable, and the students unworthy of his attention. I spoke of the research with Belby and the cancer research that I was doing at the university. I had hopes of getting a first draft of a lycanthrope potion in January and could tell that he missed being in a lab full time. He was also beginning to let his guard down, and even with that horrible Reverse Glamour Charm that he wore, I was beginning to see the Severus I knew under it. It felt good to speak with him again. Sitting in silence for a moment as we processed our thoughts, what had been and what was to come, a heavy sigh made me turn in his direction.

"This felt good," he said leaning onto his knees and studying the floor. "But, you know that _we_ can no longer be. I will never take that risk again. Malfoy and others like him are still out there, and I will not be the cause of you being injured…or worse."

"I understand. I don't like it, but I understand," I affirmed as I moved to stand before him. Kneeling, I reached out, finally, and ran my hand gently down his sleeve. "I don't ever want to go back, but that doesn't mean we can't go forward." Clasping his hands in mine, I gave them a tender squeeze. He responded by slowly pulling me close, between his knees, and wrapping his arms around me, his nose nestling in the crook of my neck.

"I've missed you," he choked.

My arms reached up his back, and I clung to him. "I've missed you, too," I whispered into his shoulder.

As he lifted his head from my neck, I gazed into his eyes, seeing the pain and the loneliness. _What do you want to do?_

"Kiss you," he responded with a smirk, remembering the first time I had asked the same question.

_Then do it._

He brought his hand up to caress my cheek as his eyes locked onto mine, his thumb brushing away the tears that were beginning to flow. I pressed a kiss into his palm as he cupped my cheek and tilted my head back.

"It cannot be," he repeated softly, brushing the hair from my face.

"I know," I murmured as his lips met mine in a final, sweet, parting kiss.

Severus left the corridor first, and I followed a few moments later. Things had changed, and even though it hurt, the change was for the better. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. We would still see each other occasionally, but the contempt would be gone. We had a truce, and somehow, I knew, deep in my heart, that this separation wouldn't be forever.


	13. Chapt 12 Wolfsbane and Crab Cakes

**12 – Wolfsbane and Crab Cakes**

Aconitum napellus, commonly know as Monkshood for the hooded shape of its bright flowers, was one of over two hundred and fifty species of the aconitum herb in the buttercup family, and Belby's plant of choice in his original lycanthrope research. As all plants in this family, it contained aconite, a toxic sap found in the stem and roots. It was a good choice as the aconite affects the nervous system, but for some reason, it was not successful in the potion. Over the past year, Belby and I had examined his research in detail and compared the qualities of a variety of plants in the same family. We came to the conclusion that he was, indeed, on the right track, but simply had the wrong species. We had narrowed down our choices to three other species and now, with the new information from Remus, were able to narrow it down to one.

Aconitum vulparia, commonly know as Wolfsbane, had a higher toxicity level of aconite than its sister herb, napellus, which was why Belby had steered away from it, which actually surprised me because it was a logical choice with its long history in the Wizard community as an herb used in shape-shifting spells. The plant, itself, was grown in gardens across Europe to ward off werewolves. Wasn't Remus' curse a form of a shape-shifting spell, only with more strength? Granted, it was a difficult plant to obtain, as not many Alchemy shops would handle it, but it wasn't impossible to get. One had to actually seek it out in the damp, cool forests of the Swiss Alps. At its peak in June, but harvested in the fall, the sap and roots were perfect for potions making. A quick trip, by me, in October had procured enough of the plant to do some initial tests. The trick, now, was to determine how much to use and how long to brew it so that we didn't poison our test subject. If applied to the skin in its raw state, Wolfsbane would act like a topical anaesthetic, numbing the affected area to pain and temperature. If ingested, it would first stimulate the cardio-inhibitory centre of the brain, but would eventually depress all activity in the central nervous system, thus, theoretically, shutting down the intracellular transmission systems. Interestingly, with all of this going on, consciousness and intelligence would remain normal. This was our goal: to stop the intracellular changes and to keep Remus' wits about him.

The Christmas holidays arrived and were as quiet as I had expected. Before Belby left with his wife to visit family, we had begun our first trial potion, taking advantage of the powers of the waning moon to infuse purging magic. The potion was left to simmer until the rise of the new moon, which would be at the beginning of the new year. After close examination, we had determined that the gravitational pull of the full moon did trigger the curse, and using the lunar cycles to create the potion was necessary.

Albus was busy at Hogwarts, with what was left of the Order, and with the Wizengamot, and Remus had been invited to spend the holidays with the Weasleys. I was alone and decided to take a break from the Wolfsbane research and take advantage of the empty university facilities to forward my Muggle studies in the lab.

Entering my assigned lab shortly after lunch on Christmas day, I soon became completely absorbed in the work and didn't notice the minor vibration of the wards being disturbed until they were completely disrupted. I jumped at the intrusion, nearly knocking over the brewing apparatus.

"How did you get past security, and don't you have better things to do on Christmas than work?"

I cringed inwardly at the quiet but sharp tone.

"I may ask the same," I replied cynically, regaining my composure and re-balancing the beaker stand.

"I just came to check on something," the intruder made an excuse, stepping further into the room.

"In the pharmacology department? Sir, the Biochem building is down the road." I eyed him without smiling.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his black trousers and drew back his hunched shoulders, scowling. I had to press my lips together to prevent the sudden giggle. He looked so much like Severus when he did that. I returned to my work, trying to regain focus now that it had been disturbed. Professor Kurtz merely stood in the doorway watching.

"Sir, I thought you came here to check on something?" I inquired with an exasperated sigh, not looking up.

"I did," he replied tersely but didn't move.

My brow furrowed as I slowly raised my head. He was standing just inside the door, staring at me.

"You," he continued, still glaring. "I was at the library and saw you head in here hours ago. When I didn't see you emerge, I thought I'd check."

My brows rose in surprise, and my stomach chose that inopportune moment to complain loudly. I blushed from embarrassment.

"Don't tell me that you didn't even have sense to bring a snack. When did you eat last?" he snapped.

"I didn't intend to start all of this." I waved my hand over the experimental set-up. "One thing led to another, and I got carried away. I lost track of time. What time is it anyway?"

"Well after dinner," he replied absently, stepping closer to look over the work. This wasn't his field, and I don't think he knew what he was looking at, but he certainly wasn't going to admit that.

"Was it successful?" he asked examining the yellowish liquid in the beaker.

"I'm not certain. Theoretically, it should work. The potion, erm, mixture appears to have the right colour and consistency but would have to be tested."

"What is it for?" he asked showing slight curiosity.

"It should re-balance the neural pathways after a bout of chemotherapy, thus reducing nausea and rosiola caused by it. Not a huge advancement or my original hypothesis, just a thought that took form," I stated as I began to clear away the used apparatus.

Kurtz shook his head as he gazed at me. "Most doctoral candidates take forever to come up with something concrete and often don't get past their theories. Is this where your past experience is coming in handy?" He shifted his eyes back and forth between the experiment and me. "Don't you ever take a break? I remember seeing you with that tall brunette and her boyfriend. Don't you have a boyfriend?"

The questions came out fast and surprised me. I expected him to refer to my past but…did he just ask if I had a boyfriend?

I drew a deep breath trying to determine which question to answer first.

"Yes, no, and no," I replied with a cautious yet mischievous grin.

"What?" he snapped again.

"Yes, my experience is very handy. No, I rarely take breaks, and no, I don't have a boyfriend. And, I would appreciate it if you would stop snapping at me. You may be my advisor, but I don't deserve to be treated so rudely. I haven't done so to you."

He stopped to fix his eyes on me, lips pressed together as if restraining himself. I wouldn't even venture to guess his thoughts at the moment, and could barely put a fix on which emotion he was emitting. It was such a jumble.

"Are you done here?" he asked suddenly, turning his back to me while regarding the room. "It's late, and this lab should be locked up."

"Yes." I glanced over at the concoction. "This needs to remain in stasis for a few days."

"In stasis?" he questioned my wording.

"Um, my English is not always the best," I covered myself as I transferred the mixture into a sealed container and moved it to a secure cabinet. With my back to Kurtz, I placed a strong ward on the cabinet lock.

Gathering my things and exiting the lab, Kurtz closed and locked the door behind us.

"You'll have to explain to me how you got in," he instructed as we walked the corridor, side by side. "Maybe over dinner."

I shot a stunned look sideways at the unpleasant man. He kept his gaze directly ahead, hands shoved back into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched again.

"Is that an invitation?" I asked unable to hide my shock.

He shrugged as my stomach growled again. I could see the edges of his thin lips turn up slightly in the allusion of a smile.

"You need to eat and so do I. So we eat together. No big deal."

As we approached the front door of the science building, he reached past me and pushed the door open, allowing me to exit first.

_So, the man has manners after all_, I thought. _Wonders never cease_.

Pulling our coats tightly around us, we ventured into the cold December night and headed for High Street figuring that something had to be open somewhere to feed us dinner. Half way down, he firmly grasped my elbow, and I was half pulled into a small seafood restaurant that could have easily been overlooked. There weren't more than half a dozen small tables, most of which already had their chairs over turned on them, ready for the floor to be cleaned for the evening. A young waitress emerged from the kitchen area and cursed lightly under her breath. Customers. She seated us, politely, near the kitchen, and proceeded to explain that most of the items on the menu were now unavailable, but she did point out some appetizing alternatives. Kurtz ordered the clam chowder, and I ordered a salad. We both ordered the crab cakes, and waited in uncomfortable silence while the restaurant employees went about their business of tidying up.

"You're quiet for a woman," Kurtz finally began as the soup and salad were served.

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "For a woman?" I repeated.

"Not one of those women's libbers, are you? Bra burning types and all that?"

"Excuse me, Sir?" I choked. _This could be entertaining,_ I thought.

"I see more and more women heading into predominantly male fields. They're pushy and bullish, trying to prove a point. You're cocky but quiet, not like the others."

Praise? Was that praise?

"I would hope that my sincerity and knowledge of the subject would draw recognition rather than being loud and offensive."

"Hmm," he replied to both the arrival of the crab cakes and to me. Shoving a whole one into his mouth and licking his fingers, he continued, "Do you find me loud and offensive?"

"No, Sir," I replied cheekily. "Just bullish." I smiled impishly taking a demure bite of the entrée.

His eyebrows shot up, and he huffed, seemingly swallowing a chuckle as well as his mouthful.

The rest of dinner was actually pleasant. I was hesitant to discuss much of my past, although he pressed a bit, but reassured him that once I had my doctorate, I would be returning to Italy as there was a position waiting for me with my old company. He said very little about himself, just that he had been at the university for nearly ten years and was being funded by the John Radcliffe Hospital to do some studies. Once he began on that topic, he chatted animatedly, and somewhat, arrogantly about them. He certainly didn't have a confidence issue.

After dinner, he escorted me back to the campus, and we casually went our separate ways, wishing each other a good night and Happy Christmas.

January arrived like a lion and with it came flu season. Belby returned from his holiday with a horrible case of influenza, and I had to tend to the lycanthrope potion alone. We didn't want it contaminated, especially with the end in sight. So, I was dosing up on Echinacea and Vitamin C combinations, and so far had avoided any illness.

The new moon rose, and the potion was removed from its simmering state. It looked perfect. The light yellow tint and thin liquid should darken and thicken slightly now that it was off the heat. Its double tendril spirals were the correct shape, and I had high hopes of its success as I carefully bottled the mixture. By the time the full moon rose again, Remus would have his first Wolfsbane Potion.

Belby was still weak from his bout with the flu and didn't have the strength to do the preliminary diagnostic tests on Remus prior to the full moon. Remus had been adamant that I not be involved in that stage and after seeing the isotone firing in the down phase, I was certain that he was afraid for my safety. I was confident that he wouldn't hurt me, and he would have to realize that I had no choice. I had to take Belby's place for the preliminary exam. Remus would just have to deal with it.

On the day of the full moon, I Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked the blustery, icy path to the Shrieking Shack. It was shortly after noon, and I didn't know if Remus would even be there, but I wanted to set things up early. Pulling my coat tightly around me as the bitter wind whipped around the corner of the building, I pushed the old, wooden door open and was gusted in. Standing in the lower foyer dusting off the snow, I heard the sound of agitated pacing coming from the upper floor. I cautiously climbed the stairs and poked my head around the half opened bedroom door. Clearing my throat, Remus spun around. His eyes were already beginning to dilate, and his breath was short.

"GET OUT!" he yelled as he turned away from me, striding to the far side of the room, near the fireplace.

"Belby is sick. He can't be here this afternoon. It has to be me," I said calmly as I entered the chamber.

"NO! You have to leave. Now!" Remus was highly agitated and insistent and kept his back to me.

"I have the first draft of the potion with me. We can try it tonight, but I need to check you out first. Remus, I'm not afraid of you. I know that you won't hurt me." I took a few steps into the room and could see his breath come in rapid puffs in the cold air.

"Why haven't you lit a fire yet?"

"Do I ever have a fire lit when you arrive at night? It's too dangerous. Get out," he bit out sharply.

I approached him from behind and reached to place my hand on his shoulder. "You've never hurt me before. You're not going to now." My tone was soft and soothing.

With speed that I hadn't seen in him before, he spun around, grabbed my shoulders, and pushed me across the room to the wall near the door, pinning me in place. My back hit the wall hard, knocking my head, and I was winded for a moment. His face was barely inches from mine.

"Even in this state I can hurt you. It's an impulse that I can't control," he growled.

"But, you know what you are doing," I gasped trying to catch my breath.

"Yes." His breath came in another puff warming my face, he was that close.

We regarded each other in silence for a moment, neither of us moving. I was still pinned but could feel his grip begin to loosen. I would have bruises on my arms later. As he began to let go, however, he moved closer, and I could feel the length of his torso press against mine, even through our coats. His chin moved to my cheek, and as he stroked upward, the stubble scraped roughly leaving a mark. When his mouth reached my ear, I could hear his harsh breathing as his tongue flicked out, the tip licking the side of my face. I shivered.

"Remus," I whispered trying to distract him and trying not to let my nervousness show. "Remus…"

His hands were now placed on either side of me on the wall, blocking me in, while his body pushed forward. I could feel his hardened length press into my abdomen. His tongue flicked out again as his mouth latched onto my earlobe, sucking it harshly then moving down along the side of my neck.

"Remus," I repeated, as my head tipped back unconsciously, my voice catching in my throat. "No." I spoke barely above a whisper.

He took a step back and gazed into my eyes. I could easily have used suggestive magic, the one Albus used to call my "untraceable Imperious Curse", but I didn't. My chest rose and fell as rapidly as his breathing. The static grew in the air, and I felt the world spin. He shifted against me again and caught my lips with his. It was a hard, hungry kiss, desperate and deep. My hands moved to his chest, trying to push him back, but although my mind was screaming "no", my body wasn't listening and returned the pressure, just as hungry, just as desperate, just as deep. Panting for air, I managed to gather my wits and push him away, moving from the wall to middle of the room.

"Remus. No. This isn't you," I gasped, breathing hard.

"Unfortunately, it is," he replied, his voice a grumble rising from deep within his chest. "Inhibitions are the first to go, then the change, and with the change any recollection of what I do."

"But, it's the afternoon…"

He shook his head. "I warned you. This started this morning and will get worse until the moon rises. Take your readings while you can and then leave." He was shaking in an attempt to maintain control.

"You're not like this with Belby are you?" The question came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Remus laughed cynically, moving to the lounge and flopping down. "Gods, no. That's why _he_ had to do the tests."

I felt a wave of relief as I moved to his side, pulled out my wand and notebook, and quickly registered his vitals. The isotone levels were at a level I had never seen, and the glands were very large. I was beginning to doubt the potency of the potion in comparison to these readings. As I turned away to jot the last of the notes in the book, Remus rose and caught me from behind, grinding his pelvis against my backside, his arms wrapping around me pinning my arms down, his nose pushing my hair aside, sniffing the crook of my neck. I shivered again. Spinning me abruptly around, he caught my mouth again, and as I fought to keep balanced, I clung to him, unconsciously responding to the desperation.

There was nothing gentle or romantic about this. It was rough and hard and frantic. Remus fumbled with the fastenings of my coat, but when he had difficulty, he gripped either side of the lapel and ripped it open, the zipper breaking in the process. I was taken aback by the brute strength. His hands rapidly found my sweatered breasts, kneading them roughly as I managed to unbutton his coat. Pushing the garment from his shoulders, it fell to the ground as my mouth sought the soft underside of his jaw. He attempted to remove my coat and sweater at the same time, but I became entangled in the mess and had to step back from his reach to relieve myself of my outer clothing. I trembled as we collided again. My hands ran under his sweater and pushed it to his shoulders as he ducked his head to slip it over. Boots and pants were next to go until we stood, nearly naked, in the frigid room. He reached around me, grabbing my buttocks and lifting me into his arms. My arms wrapped around his neck, and my legs wrapped around his waist as my lips attacked his jaw, nipping a path to his ear. With a _thunk_, he unceremoniously tossed me onto the bed, landing on top, hands roaming at a frantic pace. Pushing my bra straps aside, he licked and nipped his way from my mouth down my neck to my collarbone, finally latching onto a frozen nipple. I arched and groaned as a sharp jolt of heat struck my inner core. _Oh Gods, it had been too long._ Spanning my hand across my lower abdomen, I silently cast an infertility spell. At least I had enough sense left in me to do that. Then, wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him close, the heat and moisture soaking though my knickers. He was hard against me, and instinctively flexed forward. Reaching up, I grasped the rungs of the cast iron bed for more leverage and arched against him again as he moved down the length of my body, hauling the sopping knickers off to delve into the wet folds. His tongue drank until his carnal desires were satisfied, then rising onto his elbows and working his way back up my body, he licked, nipped and suckled until he reached my breasts again. Pushing the two together, he took both tips into his mouth, sucking hard, eliciting a moan that reverberated through the icy room. Then, in one quick motion, he rode high, entering me in one stroke. My head hit the iron bars, and I had to grip them again as we moved to complete the act.

The initial force was powerful and each subsequent joining lessened in intensity until, finally as the sun began to lower in the sky, we lay quietly in each other's arms. The cold air had warmed from the heat of our bodies, and the sole window had a layer of condensation on it as the dim sunlight struggled through. Nothing had been said the entire time, and as I lay on my back, examining the peeling paint of the ceiling, I was flooded with a myriad of emotions. Tears began to stream down my temples, soaking into my hair, and moistening the pillow.

Remus rose onto his elbow to wipe the tears away with a corner of the sheet. He shook his head knowingly. "I knew I would hurt you. You said "no", and I didn't stop. I'm so sorry." He continued to stroke the tears away.

I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut for a moment. When I opened them, I reached my hand to place it over his on my face, kissing his palm. Shaking my head, I choked, "It wasn't you. It's just been so long. I've tried not to get involved with anyone, to focus on my work, to not think of the past. It's hard…but you…" I sighed and couldn't continue, closing my eyes again.

"There was someone else," he observed quietly.

I nodded.

"He hurt you."

I opened my eyes and turned my head to this gentle soul. "Not intentionally. Things happened, and we drifted apart."

"How long ago?"

"A few years."

"Do you ever see him?"

"Sometimes." I turned my head away.

Remus lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling as well. Rolling onto my side, I curled toward him, nudging his arm until he reached around, encircling my shoulders. We silently snuggled under the comforter for a little while longer until we felt it more prudent to get out of bed. Quickly making repairs to my clothing and getting dressed, I looked over to find Remus still sitting on the bed, wrapped only in the comforter. He was trembling slightly, and his soft grey eyes were beginning to dilate again. In three paces, I was in front of him handing him a vile of yellow liquid. He took it, sniffed it cautiously, and downed the contents. I prayed to all deities that this would work.

The sun set, and the moon glowed on the horizon, and with it, the change began. Remus had insisted that I wait downstairs, just in case, and I paced the dusty floor of what had once been a sitting room as I waited for a howl to resound through the house. I spoke to Goddess Moon and prayed that all would be well and received the usual white aura and was instantly comforted by Her presence.

The distinctive clunk of heavy feet descending the stairs drew my attention to the partially closed door, and as the door was slowly pushed open, I stood behind an old armchair using it as a barrier between what was coming and me. With my wand drawn, I waited for Remus to show his face, but there was a pause.

"I'm in here, Remus. Do you understand me?" I called out sympathetically.

The door was pushed open fully, and there, in the archway, stood a man, unchanged by the full moon. I was elated. It had worked. Remus strode into the room smiling. A quick Diagnostic Charm registered that the glands were still enlarged but the isotone levels were low, controlling the intracellular transmission systems. He took a deep breath of relief, which rapidly began to fade as perspiration started to bead on his forehead. He began to tremble violently, finally collapsing onto the floor, convulsing. I was immediately on my knees beside him, my hand on his face. He was so hot, and his eyes had rolled back. Another analysis showed that the aconite had been absorbed into his system too quickly; meaning that there was either too much in the potion or the potion needed to simmer at a higher heat. Remus was being poisoned. Quickly rummaging through my jacket pocket, I withdrew a bezoar, pried open Remus' jaw, and popped it into his mouth. When the convulsions ended, I levitated the trembling man back up the stairs, gently lowered him onto the bed, and tenderly tucked him in.

I spent the night watching over him, running a diagnostic every fifteen minutes, and noting every change, every movement, anything that would help determine the next step. The potion had worked but at what cost.


	14. Chapt 13 Trials and Errors

**13 – Trials and Errors **

I sat vigil until the early hours of morning, curled up against the headboard beside the sleeping man, gently stroking the sandy brown hair from his face. At some point during the night, Remus had awakened and vomited violently over the edge of the bed, then quickly went back to sleep. I absently cleaned it up with a flip of my hand, and by the time he woke in the morning, the colour had returned to his drawn face, and he smiled at me from the warm confines of the comforter.

"What on earth could you be smiling about?" I asked in exhausted exasperation. "I poisoned you!"

"I didn't change on a full moon," he grinned. "I don't care how ill I became. I didn't change, and you're still here."

"Gods, how could you even think that I would leave you? I've been up all night. I think I may have figured out what went wrong, but I doubt you would…"

Remus rolled onto his side and reached up, grabbing my hips, and sliding me down the headboard onto my back to face him.

"If there's even a chance that this could work, I'll take it. You trusted me not to hurt you. I trust you to make the potion." His thumb gently stroked my scraped cheek as he spoke.

We talked until I could no longer string a coherent sentence together, then Remus pulled the comforter up, and I rolled over in his arms, feeling him spoon me from behind. It was a comfortable feeling, one I had missed, and in the warmth of strong arms and a down-filled comforter, I fell asleep.

Waking in the mid-afternoon, I found Remus reading an old book on the lounge, a low fire crackling on the grate. He still looked tired but no worse for wear. I ran my tongue around my mouth tasting the sourness of not having brushed my teeth in over twenty-four hours. Rolling onto my side and carefully swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I winced as I felt the soreness of yesterday afternoon's activities throb through my body. He looked over and smiled an uncertain smile.

"I didn't want to leave and have you wake up alone," he said awkwardly as he watched me shift tenderly from foot to foot, trying to relieve the stiffness from my hips.

My lips twitched, not sure what to say. "What time is it?" I finally asked, feeling like I had been beaten, but trying to ignore the condition.

"Nearly three o'clock," he replied, a light flush beginning to creep up his neck as he watched me gingerly walk across the room. "How do you feel?"

"I should be asking you that," I responded, reaching for my wand. "Any side effects that I should know about?"

"I'm actually fine," he twitched a smile, relieved that the conversation was going in a different direction. "What do you think went wrong?" He placed the book onto his lap and turned to face me.

"Two possibilities," I began, pulling up a small wooden chair and sitting near the end of the lounge, close to the fire. "Either there was too much aconite in the potion, or it wasn't simmered at a high enough heat to steam off the most potent effects of the poison. My guess is on the heat. You seemed coherent, and the potion was effective in stopping the change. Were you aware of what was going on?"

"Yes, it was very clear, but then I felt a rush of heat, and my heart started to pound in my ears. A wave of nausea came over me, and I don't remember anything after that."

"The poison began to take affect," I confirmed. "I gave you a bezoar and levitated you to bed. May I?" I asked, indicating to my wand. He nodded. The diagnostic showed that his isotone levels were nearly normal, and the glands had shrunk to their usual size. The potion seemed to be out of his system, but he was tired from the ordeal and needed his rest.

"The potion obviously needs some work. I didn't expect it to be so effective the first time, but it was a good trial."

"Short of poisoning me," Remus smirked.

I slapped at his foot playfully and got up to leave.

"Shall we meet next week at Belby's?" I asked as I put on my coat. "I'll be letting him know how the trial went. Shall I send an owl?"

Remus nodded as he watched me gather my things. He looked uncomfortable. Yesterday should not have happened. It was an awkward situation that both of us seemed content in ignoring at the moment.

Reaching to touch his shoulder, we bid each other "good-bye", and I left the Shrieking Shack, carefully walking the trail to Hogsmeade. I was pleased with the initial results, but there was still work to do. Now, it was a matter of perfecting it.

The path to Hogsmeade was still icy, but the sun shining in the cloudless, blue sky made the walk pleasant. I wasn't paying much attention as I approached the village, my mind formulating possible changes to the potion, and as I came around the corner of the bookshop, on to the main street, I was struck hard in the shoulder by a large, wet snowball. Startling back to reality, I looked up to find the street crowded with teenagers of various ages. The snowball culprits stood in shock as we heard a baritone voice boom from the bookshop doorway.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Latch. I suggest you and your classmates head back to school immediately. Detention with me, Monday evening, seven o'clock. Be prompt."

The boys said nothing as they ducked their heads and scurried off in a hurry, avoiding the dark clad professor. My hat concealed most of my face, but as the man approached, I heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered brusquely.

I swallowed hard and peeked out from under the rim as he eyed the scrape on my face.

"Did the snowball do that?" He looked angrily after the retreating boys.

"No," I managed to utter. "This wasn't their fault."

Severus' eyes narrowed.

"It was a full moon last night," I clarified.

Severus drew a long, deep breath. "Did Lupin do this?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

I avoided his eyes and quickly cast _"Occlumens"_. Even though we agreed that we couldn't be together, I felt guilty about what had happened yesterday afternoon.

"The potion worked," said I quietly looking up. "But, there were some problems, some kinks to be worked out."

"If he ever harms you, I'll kill him," Severus threatened lowly, stygian eyes boring down on me. I could see his jaw flex as he ground his teeth. I believed him.

Before I could reply, he turned on his heel and strode off, the students parting before him like the Red Sea.

I headed for the town centre and hurriedly Appartated back to the campus. I was tired and sore and needed a good hot soak. I'd talk to Belby tomorrow.

For the following weeks, Belby and I analysed the potion and agreed on improvements to be made. A new formula was begun during the waning moon, and when the new moon emerged, lavender was added to take the edge off of the anxiety. After simmering for another week, the concoction was removed from the heat and set aside to cool. It was a fiddly potion. Precise ingredients, measures, and timing had to be made. This would be another "trial".

February thirteenth saw the arrival of the next full moon and, armed with a new potion, both Belby and I made our way from Hogsmeade to the Shrieking Shack. It was mid-afternoon, and we had arranged to meet Remus there. We had a plan. This potion was a bit different. The addition of the lavender meant that Remus could take it in the daylight, thus taking the edge off of the agitation he felt in the preliminary stage.

Entering the ramshackle structure and climbing the stair to the second floor, Belby called out and entered the room first. I followed. Remus was pacing by the unlit fireplace. His breathing was already heavy and rapid. As we entered the chamber, his grey eyes darted from Belby to me, and then back. A look crossed his strained face that was almost disappointment. Although, we had met and worked together over the past month, nothing had been said about the tryst and nothing further had happened.

Belby set to work immediately, taking Remus' vitals and registering the information in the notebook. I prepared the potion and offered it to Remus' trembling hand. As the vial passed from my hand to his, his fingers brushed against mine, and a feral growl rumbled in his chest. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I felt a shiver run up my spine. Belby was oblivious to the byplay as he pulled out a Wizard chessboard and set it up on an overturned crate by the fireplace.

"Well," he said clapping his hands together. "This will pass the time and

determine whether you can retain clear thought." He grinned like a schoolboy at Remus who glanced helplessly at me.

The afternoon passed slowly, and as night began to fall, I noted that the lavender seemed to be working. I would have knocked Belby senseless for some of the thoughtless things that he did and said. Yet, Remus sat quietly in control, although he was beginning to look very tired. Casting _"Lumos"_ on the candles on the mantel as the sun set and the moon rose, I carefully watched for any sign of change.

As darkness began to cast long shadows in the room, Remus began to faintly tremble, stretching the muscles along his shoulders, back and neck, and rotating his head, tipping it backward and sniffing the air. Belby jumped from his seat, startled, having been absorbed in the game and not noting the time. The change was slight, more instinct than physical. Remus' upper body broadened, and his eyes fully dilated, but he remained calm, almost sleepy. Hearing a howl resound from the woods, Remus' head spun around, and he strode to the window, gazing out as if he wanted to leave. This would be the second full moon where he had not ventured into the Forbidden Forest.

Noting him rock slightly as he stood, I came up behind him and wrapped my arm around his waist to help him balance. He looked down at me with a tender smile, his eyes beginning to close. Silently, I led him to the bed and tucked him in, almost motherly. Belby watched the silent scene from across the room. I had agreed to stay the night to keep an eye on things while Belby returned home. Belby wasn't pleased with leaving me there, but as another howl sounded from the forest, he quickly agreed, making a hasty exit while he still could before the moon rose too high, and the werewolves became too active. I curled up in the lounge, a warm fire glowing on the hearth, and sat watching the sleeping man. He stirred a few times but generally slept peacefully.

The dim glow of dawn sat on the horizon, and Remus stirred from under the covers. He was still fully clothed, and the side of his face was creased from where it had lain on his arm.

"How do you feel?" I asked sleepily.

"Strange," he replied lifting his head from the pillow. "I feel itchy, but it's like I don't know where to scratch."

"Hmm, mental irritation. The potion stimulated the frontal lobe to produce the calming effect and control your motor activities. It's probably like a mental itch," I said moving from the lounge to the edge of the bed. Tousling his hair playfully as he lay on his stomach, I asked, "Want me to scratch it?"

He grinned mischievously as he rolled onto his back. Reaching up and grabbing my wrist, he knocked me off balance, pulling me onto the bed, laughing. We wrestled as we rolled, becoming tangled in the sheets. Finally, he pinned me on my back, my arms above my head.

"Well, you seem in fine spirits," I sniggered from beneath him. "It would seem that the potion worked for the most part. Still a few bugs to work out, but at least I didn't poison you this time," I laughed.

"It made me very sleepy, which when you think about it, could be a good thing, because if Belby hadn't been there, I'm not sure if I could have controlled myself."

"Ooooo, those inhibitions?" I teased.

He blushed and released my arms. "We never did talk about that," he said as he sat up against the headboard.

"It was awkward, and I thought it best left alone. It was the situation. Not something that should have happened." I joined him on the headboard, our feet stretched out in front of us over the rumpled covers.

Remus lowered his head and fidgeted with his fingers. "The change takes away the inhibitions, not the emotion." I could see a flush creep up his neck and into his cheeks as he continued talking to his hands. "I've always shied away from becoming personal with someone. I was always afraid that I would hurt them, or not be able to control myself and accidentally bite them. You trusted me. You were so confident that I wouldn't hurt you, but I did hurt you. I saw how you moved afterward, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't help myself," he rambled.

I sat beside him on the bed and took his hand in mine. "I still do trust you. It was my fault, too. I could have stopped you, but I didn't want to."

"I don't have a lot of experience with this," he said guardedly playing with my fingers. "I'm nearly twenty-seven years old and can count on one hand how often I've…"

I gave his hand a squeeze. "You don't have to explain anything."

He squeezed my hand in return and smiled shyly as he leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled a small package from a drawer in the bedside table.

I gave him a puzzled look as he handed it to me. "What's this?" I asked.

"Happy Valentine's Day." His lips twitched in an uncertain smile as I took the brightly wrapped box.

Untying the ribbon and pulling off the paper, I tugged the lid off the box. Nestled in a scrap of red velvet, lay a silver goddess pendant attached to a simple fine-link chain.

"Remus," I gasped. "It's silver. You shouldn't be handling this."

"It's pewter and perfectly safe. Do you like it?"

I nodded as I lifted the gift from its wrapping. "You shouldn't have. I …"

He lifted his hand to stop me. "Consider it a thank you gift for all you have done for me. Not just the potion but your trust and friendship. I know how important your Goddess is to you. I've grown to care very much for you. Last month the "beast" may have taken over, but that doesn't lessen the feelings that seem to be developing." He was examining his hands again.

I turned on the mattress and sat on my knees facing him, running the tips of my fingers across his creased brow, past his temple to cup his stubbled cheek. "Thank you," I whispered as I leaned to tenderly kiss his lips. He drew a deep breath and timidly wrapped his hand around my waist, lowering me back down beside him. The kiss deepened, and his tongue flicked tentatively over my lower lip, as if asking for permission to enter. As I gingerly wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his, feeling his response, permission was granted, and we melted into the soft covers, letting nature take its course.


	15. Chapt 14 A Horse of a Different Colour

**14 – A Horse Of A Different Colour**

The experimental apparatus was organized across the worktable, a slim beaker bubbling gently in its stand over a low flame. Once again, I was examining the MRI scans on the light screens on the wall. There were two series of them: Remus' and a patient from the John Radcliffe Hospital who had agreed to help with the study. They looked remarkably similar in the results, and I noticed that much of the data in the Wolfsbane research was transferable to the cancer research. After all, they were dealing with the same hypothesis: dysfunctions in the intracellular transmission system. I had a theory that was beginning to consume me and with the relative success of the Wolfsbane Potion, I was spending as many hours in the lab on campus as I could. There was a connection. I could see it. I just had to figure out how to transfer it to the Muggle world.

There was a disturbance in the wards, and I turned to find both of my advisors standing in the doorway, taking in the sight.

"May I help you, Sirs?" I asked moving away from the screens and closer to the workstation.

"As your advisors, we are required to check in on you now and again. I know that we had a meeting recently in my office, but we wanted to see how the practical work was progressing. Professor Kurtz tells me that you are spending an enormous amount of time in here lately."

As Professor Cornwall spoke, Professor Kurtz wandered through the room, that scowl permanently etched into his features.

He poked at the beaker, and I snapped, "Don't touch that!" His head shot up, and he scowled at me directly. "Please," I added more gently. "It's hot, and I've been working on it for more than a week."

"What is it?" he asked moving away from the station and toward the light screens.

"It's a variation on the formula that I was working on at Christmas. Remember?"

"Hmm," Professor Cornwall wandered past the counter to join Kurtz at the screens. "You were talking about this. Is this actually working?" He sounded highly interested and surprised.

"Yes, it seems to be. The side effects have been minimal and…"

"Side effects? You've been using people to experiment on?" Professor Kurtz was flabbergasted. "Are you mad? You can have your permission revoked. You're a doctoral candidate, NOT a doctor."

"I have written consent from the subjects. Remember, I have experience in this field as well. I'm not some amateur playing with a chemistry set," I shot back at him.

I spent the next two hours explaining the theory and the experiments to the highly agitated, yet curious, advisors, showing them the logbooks, MRI scans, and complete research notes. They had seen the reports but not the work in progress. I had Remus' abridged version with me, and the reports from the patient at John Radcliffe, and they poured over the results, shaking their heads.

"I can't believe this," Professor Cornwall uttered, rifling through the papers scattered across a vacant counter. "We have to report this to the university administration."

I was beginning to get nervous. Was I going to be thrown out of school? At this point, my work with Wolfsbane was pretty much complete, but I hated leaving the cancer research unfinished. The formula was working, and there were people who could benefit from it.

"Wasn't it my job to support my theories? Wasn't I supposed to create results? Have I not done that?" My Italian temper was beginning to rage. This was even lower than being an apprentice. At least there I had the freedom to explore. I huffed as I manoeuvred around the workstation.

Professor Cornwall waved his hand to stop me, while Professor Kurtz stood to the side looking concerned, hands shoved deep within his pockets.

"No, that's not what I meant. If these scans are a result of your work, then we need to rethink you doctoral conditions. I have never seen a first-year candidate produce such results. This is amazing."

"Most certainly her past experience is coming into play," Professor Kurtz surprisingly supported.

I stopped and looked at them, my brows furrowed, unsure of what was being suggested.

"Miss Di Marco," Professor Cornwall continued calmly. "A doctorate in research pharmacology generally takes three years. With the number of hours that you are putting in and the results that you are producing, I would suggest that you would probably be finished in two." He nodded at Professor Kurtz, who tipped his head in agreement.

A doctorate in two years? That would mean that I would have just over a year left. I was in shock.

Professor Cornwall left the lab with a synopsis of my work for the administration, leaving Professor Kurtz and I alone. I still couldn't believe what had been suggested and absently toyed with the empty vials and beakers on the counter. I didn't notice the professor approach until he took the beaker from my hand, placing it on the polished surface.

"Stunned you into silence, have we?" he tersely asked. "I'd say that was impossible, but it's you we're dealing with. You're far too quiet already."

I raised my head to stare into that pockmarked face. There was no scowl, no sour expression, just a serious countenance. Turning to the workstation, I silently began to put the experiment away. The heated beaker had been removed from the apparatus an hour ago and was now cool. I placed it in the refrigerating system in a sealed container and, with my back turned, warded the lock. He watched as I cleaned up.

"It's getting late," he said sharply, leaning against the workstation, his arms folded against his thin chest. "Would you join me for dinner?"

My head spun in surprise. Another dinner with this unpleasant man? "I don't think that's wise. You're my advisor. People may talk."

"Then, let the idle minds of the less brilliant chatter. It's a meal, not a lifetime commitment, unless, of course, that noise from your stomach is an indication of a gastric deficiency other than hunger, in which case I'll drive you to John Radcliffe instead."

I smiled. I was being silly, and indeed, I was hungry.

The walk down High Street was peaceful as I was lost in my thoughts, and the professor was not much of a conversationalist. A tug at my elbow steered me up a side street and into the dimly lit Rose and Crown Pub. It was the upper end of the pubs on campus, and one more frequented by the staff rather than the students. It wasn't very crowded, and Professor Kurtz found us a booth on the far end. We sat in silence until the waitress arrived. Ordering the day's special, we picked at the pretzels in the bowl on the table.

"God, you really _are_ quiet," he exclaimed as he leaned back on the bench. Searching for conversation, he began, "So, what made you come up with such a theory?"

_Ah, sticking to a safe topic of work_, I thought. I shrugged. How do you explain lycanthrope to a Muggle? "There is a reason why things happen, and if one can find the reason, then one can find a cure."

He sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "You're an idealist. Things are not always that simple."

"I realize that, but you must maintain a positive outlook. Tell yourself enough times that you won't succeed, and of course, you won't. I try my best, and so far I've been successful."

"Tell me," he stated leaning his elbows onto the table. "How does an Italian orphan end up at Oxford?"

"I was lucky," I said simply, watching him watch me intently. "People gave me encouragement and opportunities. I used it to thrive. If I hadn't, I would have wasted their time and efforts. When I receive my doctorate, I'll be returning to Italy to repay a debt."

"I may have to oppose that request for status change on your doctorate then, just to keep you around," he smirked.

"That would only delay the inevitable." I shook my head at him. _He wouldn't dare,_ I thought.

As we sat, several of the professor's colleagues passed and a few rested at the bar. Some outright stared, and some snickered with each other while casting sideways glances at us. I could feel the tension rise in Professor Kurtz as he kept his head down, frowning into his dinner. Quickly casting an empathic scan on the group, the emotion was one of ridicule.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought you here." He stabbed his piece of meat viciously, glancing up to glower at those at the bar.

I smiled kindly at the humiliated man. "Let the idle minds of the less brilliant chatter," I repeated soothingly.

He turned his head, and our eyes locked. _Ignore them. Just enjoy yourself_.

Professor Kurtz's lips twitched upward in an attempt to smile. I don't think his face muscles were used to the change. It looked painful.

Leaving the pub and walking back toward the campus, I heard a voice call my name from the crowded entrance of the Red Lion. We stopped and turned to find Emily pushing her way through the mass, pulling a haggard-looking Colin behind her. She launched herself at me, smothering me with a hug. We hadn't seen each other in a couple of months, although I occasionally saw Colin as we passed on campus. When she stepped back, it registered that I was not alone.

"Professor Kurtz," she stuttered grabbing hold of Colin's hand as if in support or protection.

The professor merely nodded at the couple.

"We've been trying to get in touch with you all day," Emily exclaimed to me. "Can you join us? Umm, both of you?" She invited uncertainly.

I turned my head to the professor. Although I wanted to visit with my friends, this cold soul was beginning to warm up. I didn't want to abandon him because someone else came along. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his overcoat and his shoulders were beginning to ride up to his ears. I noticed this behaviour in the past and saw it as a sign of insecurity.

"How long are you in town for?" I asked Emily.

"Until tomorrow evening," she replied with a puzzled frown.

"Maybe we can meet up for lunch tomorrow," I suggested.

With a mystified nod, she and Colin slipped back into the crowd. Turning to continue my path with Professor Kurtz, I ignored the scowl that I was receiving.

"I don't need your pity," he said sharply.

"You don't have it," I replied lightly. "It would have been rude and inconsiderate to leave you for someone else, especially after you bought me dinner. You deserve better treatment than that."

We walked in silence for a while, then he stopped us about half way between the pub and the campus.

"How long has it been since you've seen your friend?" he pondered aloud, gazing straight ahead.

"Since right before Christmas. We did some shopping together," I answered.

"That was months ago," he replied with an exasperated sigh. "Woman, I can see you any time. Go with your friends."

"No," I insisted as I turned toward him.

He looked down at me that sneer back on his face. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself," he measured, but his tone was soft, almost kind. "You deserve time with your friends. Go, I'll be fine."

I paused, uncertain of what to do, then taking hold of his arm, I thanked him for dinner and bid him "good night". A flicker of a smile crossed his features, and he tipped his head in acknowledgement before stalking off.

Heading back to the Red Lion, I pushed my way through the crowd and found Emily and Colin with a few other friends at the usual table in the back of the pub. They were surprised to see me, and it was obvious that Emily had relayed the information of my dinner partner to the others. Pulling up an extra chair, Colin made room for me at the table.

"Kurtz?" Emily exclaimed. "Kurtz?" she repeated, waving her hands in the air. "Have you gone mad?"

_Hmm,_ I thought sardonically, _that's the second time today someone has said that_. "Not at all," I replied seriously. "He's one of my advisors and after a meeting this afternoon, he invited me to dinner. It was dinner, not a lifetime commitment." I found myself smiling at the repetition of his words.

She shook her head at me, as did the others, and the conversation resumed. It felt good to reconnect with friends after such a long bout in the lab. Emily enjoyed her job with the research firm, and she and Colin were planning a September wedding, being unable, or unwilling, to wait any longer.

I made my way back to the dorm in the wee hours of the morning and slept well into the following day.


	16. Chapt 15 Triumph in the Month of Moons

**15 – Triumph in the Month of Moons**

A rare occurrence was to happen in April: a double full moon – one at the beginning of the month and one at the end.

Remus had introduced me to a couple of members of the pack in March, and between the two of us, convinced them to try the new potion. When April emerged, the daring (or desperate) came forward. Belby and I had made enough of the potion for both moons and to take Remus into May, but we used the last of the vulperia supplies in order to conduct these trials.

As the group met in a large, grassy clearing on the far side of the Forbidden Forest in the late afternoon of the first full moon, Remus, Belby and I anxiously made our way from the Shrieking Shack to meet them. The pack was wary and held back as we approached, but Remus led the way and spoke to their leader, Darian, making introductions to the rest of the pack. This wasn't the ideal setting, but no one wanted to meet at anyone's home. They felt more secure here. Wood was gathered, and a fire built to stave off the evening cold, and after another quick explanation of what to expect, Darian stepped forward, and with a shaky hand, downed the first vial of yellow liquid. The others watched, waiting. Within minutes the shaking stopped, and he nodded his approval. Each stepped forward to accept their vial, hope shining in their eyes.

It was a long evening, and Belby and I kept close watch on each subject, noting any and all effects in our notebooks, and as the full moon rose, Belby nervously sank back, away from the fire to watch. Heads began to tip upward and muscles began to stretch, but smiles emerged as the moon rose high and little change occurred.

Remus made his rounds amongst the pack, quietly reassuring each while Belby and I took readings and asked questions. As the night wore on and sleep overtook us, I cuddled close to Remus, seeking his warmth, and drifted off snuggled in his arms. Belby stayed fearfully alert by the fire, watching us with a disapproving glare.

During the second trial at the end of April, word had spread about the potion, and more showed up to test it. There was barely enough to go around, and as the last vial was distributed, I overheard a young child timidly ask his mother, "Will this help stop the hurt?" She smiled and nodded, encouraging him to drink.

Remus approached me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist as I watched the scene. He nuzzled the crook of my neck, placing light kisses as he whispered, "You've given us a new lease on life. We're eternally grateful."

I turned in his arms and nestled into his broad chest, a bonus of the full moon, feeling happy and content.

The success of the potion in April encouraged Belby and I to submit it to the Ministry of Magic for approval in May. We felt that it was ready. The British Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions was very much like the Italian department, and my name was known here as well. That, with Belby's reputation as an alchemist, should ensure a quick approval, and we hoped that the Wolfsbane Potion would be publicly available by summer. One problem, however, was the vulparia that was used in these trials was obtained in Switzerland at peak harvest last October. Getting the same quality in the spring would be difficult. In recent months, Belby had heard of a grower in Wales, but we would first have to run tests on the herb to make sure that the components were the same. If necessary, I could make a run to Switzerland in search of a witch or wizard who handled the herb, but that would take time. We opted to try the wizard in Wales.

Belby had been ecstatic when we brought the potion to the Ministry. I let him grandly present it to the committee but answered their questions candidly. During the presentation, one committee member pointedly asked about my contribution. He was under the impression that Belby had abandoned the project years ago. Belby shot me an uneasy look as I politely explained that we'd been working on it together for over a year, and that my studies at a Muggle university, my expertise in potions, and experience at the Italian Ministry helped tremendously. I wasn't going to overshadow Belby's years of research, but I wasn't going to let him take all the credit either, which he seemed to be trying to do.

The committee seemed impressed and nodded to each other but said that they would have to further examine the potion and results. They would owl us when they had reached a decision.

We left the Ministry encouraged.

The relative success of the Wolfsbane gave me an opportunity to go back to work in the lab on campus. On one particular dreary day in late May, I arrived in mid-morning and had two potions brewing at the workstation by lunch. One was testing the qualities of the Welsh vulparia obtained by Belby last week, and one was brewing an anti-inflammatory for the lymph nodes in the cancer research. While the potions gently brewed over a low heat, I reviewed the research on each and examined the latest scans. I was pleased with the Wolfsbane results, and the Welsh vulparia was looking promising. It was such a fiddly potion, but patience and perseverance had paid off. The cancer potion was also doing well, and the doctors at John Radcliffe were amazed at the patient's progress. It appeared that the disease had gone into remission, and although the doctors were examining all possible causes for this, they had already suggested that they believed it to be the result of my creation. I had discovered that injecting the potion directly into the lymph nodes worked much more effectively in Muggles.

As I stood on the far side of the room studying the scans, I drifted in thought. Professor Cornwall met with me regularly, and had popped his head in last week but had still not heard anything from the administration regarding my doctoral status. As for Professor Kurtz, I had only seen him in passing since our dinner nearly two months ago. I, kind of, missed him.

The wards vibrated as the lab door opened, and the fiend himself slunk in. Standing in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark brown trousers, he gazed around the sterile room. I raised my head and silently watched him. His lips contorted through various expressions as he began to rock from heels to toes. He looked uncomfortable.

I raised my eyebrows and smiled pleasantly. "Can I help you?" I smirked pulling up the sleeves of the lab coat and leaning forward on the stool, catching his gaze.

He took one step in and ran his left hand through his greying blond hair, sighing. "I did my best," he frowned, avoiding my eyes by examining the white tile floor.

I tipped my head sideways, quizzically.

"But, it seems that the administration agrees with Professor Cornwall." His lips twitched upward in a crooked smile. "Status change approved," he announced. "I tried to keep you here longer, but they wouldn't listen."

Was that mischief in his eyes? That demon! He was playing with me!

"Approved?" I grinned broadly. _One year left_, I thought excitedly.

"Yes," he rolled his eyes with another sigh. "I tried to dissuade them, but your work spoke for itself. Hmm," he added teasingly, reaching for the Wolfsbane. "Maybe if I…"

"Don't touch that." I jumped from my stool in shock sending it crashing to the floor and diving at the menace.

He startled and spun suddenly, knocking the beaker from the heat.

"_Fermata_!" I yelled as my hand shot forward, and the beaker froze in mid-air. I caught it a second later and released the spell, the scalding glass burning my palm. Quickly replacing the beaker to the heat, I raced to the refrigerator for ice, silently casting a Cooling Charm along the way. Professor Kurtz dashed to the sink to grab a towel, soaking it in cold water before wrapping it around my injured hand. The rapid application of the ice, water, and spell should save the hand from blistering.

"I was just joking," he exclaimed angrily. "I would never tamper with a candidate's work, regardless of the motive."

"I'm sorry. I over-reacted. I've been working on that potion for over a week." I winced as he squeezed the wet towel into my palm.

He shook his head as he held my wrapped hand. "I'm not that bad," he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Potion? What was that "Fermata" thing? The beaker looked like it stopped falling."

Oh, dear. He saw. Thinking quickly, I replied, "_Fermata_ is Italian for stop. It was a reflex. Honestly, what do you think I am? Magic or something? Things don't just stop in mid-air." Taking my hand from his and examining the wound, I continued, "Looks like it'll be all right. See, I still have use of all of my fingers." I smiled, wiggling them at him. The palm was red, but the ice and cloth were soothing. "Thank you," I added. "You have quick reflexes."

He simply snorted and gave a short nod, skulking away to right the stool while I examined the experimental apparatus. Although it had been disturbed, it didn't look like it suffered for it.

"I apologize." He shook his head. "My inept way of being…" He let the sentence drift.

"Friendly? Funny?"

"As you can tell, I'm not very good at it." The hands were back in his pockets, and the scowl was back on his face.

"Don't worry about it." I waved. "Had you done some real damage you would have heard a few more choice Italian words, not all repeatable, and certainly not lady-like," I smirked.

His crooked smile slowly crept back.

Sorting the experiment away, Professor Kurtz and I exited the science building and walked the path back toward the dorms. Although it was late afternoon, the clouds from the morning had parted, and the sun was beaming high in the sky, warming the potentially cool air. We walked in silence. The professor tried unsuccessfully to start a conversation, giving up before the words left his mouth. I could feel his arm brush up against mine occasionally as we walked. _Was he trying to hold my hand?_ I smirked to myself. As we passed the Radcliffe Camera and the professor was finally beginning to form a sentence, a smiling figure emerged from the dark side of the round structure.

"How's that for timing?" the figure called out.

Professor Kurtz's head spun, disappointment mixed with surprise on his face. I turned to the familiar voice.

"Just getting back from the lab?" Remus called.

I nodded. "Professor Kurtz, this is my friend Remus Lupin. Remus, Professor Kurtz," I introduced.

Remus extended his hand with an agreeable smile while the professor shook it warily.

"Remus. Odd name. Are you a student here?" Kurtz's scowl was back.

"No, Dani has been working with me on a project." He shot a questioning glance to me, not certain if he should say anything more.

"Remus was the first test subject for the experiments that I've been working on," I clarified to a growingly puzzled professor. "All those reports from the other hospital were about him."

"Really?" He said staring at the smiling man. "You look good for someone who has been through so much."

Turning to my friend, I explained, "Professor Kurtz is one of my advisors in the doctorate programme."

"Thanks to Dani. She's given me new hope," Remus beamed.

"Really?" Kurtz replied taking a deep breath as he regarded the two us suspiciously. "I'll leave you, then," he stated curtly, bowing away. "You don't need a double escort back. Congratulations again, Miss Di Marco." He tipped his head toward us and stalked off toward the main street.

"Congratulations? What was that about?" Remus asked innocently as I stared after the strange man.

As I took hold of the crook in Remus' arm and we casually strolled toward the dorms, I began to explain the events of the morning. If I had looked back, I would have noticed Kurtz dejectedly watching us from the entranceway of the Camera.


	17. Chapt 16 Life's Rollercoaster

**16 – Life's Rollercoaster**

A faint tap filtered into my dream causing me to drift into semi-consciousness as I tried to determine whether it was real or not. Tap, tap, tap. It happened again. Groaning, I lifted my head from the soft pillow to focus on the clock on the bedside table. It was only four in the morning. What on earth could be so important? Tap, tap, tap. I groaned knowing that I would have to get up. Shifting my legs over the edge of the bed, and stumbling to the door, I placed my hand on it, barely capable of casting a Seeing Spell. Tap, tap, tap. There it was again…from across the room. Now, I was alert. Striding to the window, I slowly drew back the thick curtain to find a brown, speckled barn owl perched on the stone ledge. It held a small scrap of parchment in its beak. Reaching for the bird to relieve it of its message, I stubbed my toe on the stack of books on the floor and pressed my lips together to muffle the whimper ready to emerge. I didn't want to wake the man who was still sleeping soundly. Too late. A soft moan was uttered as Remus rolled onto his side and reached to where I had been. Finding nothing, his sleepy eyes pried open, and he gave me a quizzical look. The bird tipped its head in curiosity as I hopped and limped around the centre of the room. Stepping onto the interior ledge, it waited patiently for me to take the letter. Finally regaining composure, I retrieved the note, sat on the edge of the bed, and cast a dim _"Lumos"_ on a wall sconce above me. The parchment read:

_Good morning._

_We need to meet. Usual place. 2 pm._

_A.D._

I stared at the missive. I hadn't heard from Albus in months. There had been no need. I wondered what this was about, but then again, whenever he called, it wasn't social. There was something to be done that required my "special" skills, but usually he would just send instructions. This time he wanted to meet. I fed the owl a treat and lay back in bed beside my curious lover, my mind reeling with possibilities. It could have something to do with the Wolfsbane Potion. I knew that Remus talked with him somewhat regularly. Maybe he had heard the Ministry's decision and wanted to tell me in person. That was a nice thought, but this was my grandfather I was thinking about. He wasn't the sort to get personally involved with this. Maybe it had something to do with Severus. My heart pounded as my eyes flew open in panic. Was he all right? I tried to push the next thought further away. Could it be? Was Voldemort on the move again?

"Anything I need to know about?" Remus quietly asked, noticing my various changes of expressions.

I shook my head, saying nothing. After a pause, I reconsidered. "I've been invited to visit an old friend this afternoon," I stated flatly.

"Sounds like you don't want to go," he observed.

"Kind of a double-edged sword," I replied. "I do want to go, but we have plans."

He smiled as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Nothing that can't wait," he kissed into my hair.

For nearly an hour, I tossed and turned uncomfortably, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. The sun sat on the horizon when I finally rose and pulled the curtain open.

_Glorious Sun God, Ruler of Day, _

_Rise in the morn and light my way. _

_Fill me with your warmth and power, _

_Stay with me 'til the darkening hour._

_Oh, God of the Sun,_

_Lend me your strength to get through this day._

I stood absorbing the warmth of the rising sun, feeling the energies fill me, clearing my thoughts, and setting me right for the day. Remus and I would have the morning together, and then I would head to the stone house in Cumberland to find out what Albus wanted.

The gravel path and the small garden surrounding the isolated house were lined with the most beautiful, deep purple flowers. Each fuzzy stem stood about three feet high and was laden with tiny, amethyst buds framed by glossy, dark green leaves scalloped with small spikes. The scent wasn't the usual sweet, floral scent but a heady, musky one. If one looked closely, they could almost see the faint, violet aura emitted as these flowers protected the house and its occupants. Draconus filiastus, Dragon Weed, was rare to the Britain, being grown only in certain parts of Europe, but it was something Albus had procured years ago when this house first became a "safe house", when I had been injured. I twitched a small smile at the memory. I loved those flowers. They were my favourite.

Approaching the front door, I knocked politely, and turned the heavy iron knob to enter. Purposefully walking down the narrow, main hall, I found Albus sipping tea in the sitting room, a cup set aside on the small, end table waiting for me.

"Good afternoon, my dear." He raised his cup in greeting, his light blue eyes twinkling.

"Good afternoon to you." I smiled back, curious to know what he was up to. Taking a place in the twin armchair by his side, I accepted the offered cup of tea, nodding my thanks.

"I hope I didn't take you away from anything important," he stated lowering the cup to his lap, a knowing twitch on his lips.

"Nothing that couldn't be rearranged, but was the early morning owl necessary? You startled me." I took a sip of the hot liquid.

"I do apologize." It appeared as though he was holding back a chuckle. "I sent the message late last night. When did you say it arrived?"

"Four in the morning," I answered emphatically.

He smiled shrewdly. "I hope its arrival didn't interrupt anything."

"Nothing but a good night's sleep," I answered dully. _Damn, looks like he knows about Remus._

He chuckled lightly at my answer.

"Is there any particular reason why I'm here?" I cut to the chase.

Albus leaned back in his chair and placed his cup on the side table between us, the smile fading as he drifted in thought for a moment. His lips pressed together before he began to speak.

With a light sigh, he looked at me directly. "I do require you again." His response was straightforward.

I sighed and shook my head. "You know, you can owl me sometime just to have a chat or a cup of tea. I only hear from you when you need something. I know it's important but…"

"I know. You feel used at times," he finished my sentence.

"Yes."

"I apologize, dear. I should take you up on your offer."

"What do you need now?" I resigned.

Steepling his index fingers under his chin, he sat pensively for a moment gazing at the empty fireplace. "The Egyptian Minister of Magic has reported that one of his employees has mysteriously disappeared while enroute to the Middle East on business. This member was once rumoured to have dark sympathies. Severus is heading into exams and cannot leave the school at the moment without raising suspicions. I know you said that a man is best suited for going to this area, but I have no choice. I need you."

We sat in silence for a moment. He was waiting for a response. I was processing the information.

"What will be my excuse for going?" I asked.

"I heard of the success of the Wolfsbane Potion. You could head to Rome and speak with your Ministry. I'm sure they would enjoy hearing from you personally. From there, you could visit "old friends"." He paused for a moment. "Our Ministry hasn't given their decision yet, have they?" he stated.

"No. I was hoping to hear by now. I'm not comfortable leaving Belby to receive the news alone."

Albus gave me a puzzled look.

I shrugged. "I don't quite trust the man. He was too comfortable presenting the research to the Ministry and, had I not been there, I don't think he would have even mentioned my contribution. I think he'd take the credit completely if there was no one to stop him."

Albus nodded slightly. "I understand. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, and I won't let that happen. From what Remus tells me, it was you who has spent the most significant amount of time working on this. Belby would have given up. But, then again, I think Remus is biased." Albus' eyes were twinkling again as a knowing smile crept across his withered features.

I could feel a light blush creep across my chest. Thank goodness for high-neck t-shirts.

The narrow streets around Trevi Market were bustling with tourists as I headed for the billboard of the paperboy plastered to the front of an old newsstand. Leaning casually against it as pedestrians passed me by, I silently slipped into the main lobby of the Italian Ministry of Magic. Although I kept in touch with my old supervisor on occasion, it had been three years since I'd set foot in this building. I stood, staring up at the Fountain of Circe, considering the events of the past few days.

My departure had been easy to explain to Remus and Belby. My Ministry needed a personal update on the experiments. After all, they were the ones to arrange my attendance at Oxford so that the lycanthrope study could go forward. Belby was almost pleased to see me go. He had been distant since the trials in April and had, most emphatically, voiced his repulsion of my unprofessional and unseemly public display with our "test subject". Remus, on the other hand, was excited and considered coming with me but was mysteriously offered a job that would keep him busy for the summer. He was eager to be working again, so we said our "good-byes" the night before I left.

Explaining my departure to Professors Cornwall and Kurtz, however, was a different matter. My doctorate had been shortened partially because of the amount of time that I was spending in the lab. Now, I would be leaving for an indefinite period. I didn't expect to be gone long, but I couldn't give a specific return date. I explained that it was necessary to return to Rome, because my benefactors required an update on my scholastic situation and, as I had not been home since moving to England, they felt I should inform them personally. I had to reassure my advisors that I would devote the remainder of the year completely to my studies and research.

"May I help you, Miss?" an old security wizard shuffled across the lobby from his station by the front doors, breaking into my thoughts.

I turned to smile fondly at the aging wizard. "I have an appointment with the Minister."

"Mistress Di Marco." He broke into a toothless grin, suddenly recognizing me. "Welcome back."

I nodded pleasantly and was escorted to elevator five. Opening the gilded gate, he ushered me in with a wave of his withered hand, and riding the lift down to the second floor I could feel butterflies quiver in my stomach. As the doors slid open, heads curiously popped up and around the edges of the cubicles. Nothing appeared to have changed as the whispering suddenly began to filter from one chamber to the next. I held my head high as I strode the long, tile path through the office toward the administration centre. The meeting was to be held in my old supervisor's domain.

Reaching the middle of the hallway, a familiar, dark-haired witch emerged from her workspace, head down as she read a file in her hand. I stopped to avoid bumping into her, and her head shot up in surprise.

"Merlin's beard! Mistress Di Marco!" she exclaimed with a gleeful smile. "Or, is it Doctor Di Marco now?"

"Good morning, Carmen," I replied smiling back at my former colleague. "It's still Mistress, at least for another year. Didn't you know that I was coming?"

"No. The supervisor just said that he was expecting a visitor. Granted, he's been grinning like a magician with something up his sleeve all morning. The Minister is in with him at the moment. Oh," she paused for an instant, "you're here to see both of them."

I nodded, and we turned to walk the path together.

The meeting took all morning and into early afternoon. I explained my studies and the success of the Wolfsbane Potion, and that it was, now, just a matter of waiting for the British Ministry's approval. My Minister shook his head in disgust, muttering that had the research been done here, in Italy, the approval would have already been granted. I was elated with his support. Italians were so much more passionate about things. I, also, filled them in on the Muggle cancer research, stating that I had a year left in that program, and then would be a Doctor of Pharmacology in the Muggle world, an equivalent to an Alchemist Healer in our world. They seemed both pleased and impressed.

By the end of the meeting, they were highly satisfied with my progress and had offered me another job at the Ministry when I was done. I always knew that I had a job waiting when I returned, but this took me completely by surprise: Head of Research in the Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions: Master Lindstrom's old position, which had never been satisfactorily filled. I was honoured and accepted.

Leaving the Ministry, I wandered the crowded streets of Rome absorbing the energies of the ancient city. I was overwhelmed and felt a bit lost, not knowing where to go next. As I strolled the cobble pathway, my heart began to pound heavily, and as I reached an Appartition point near the Piazza Navona, I closed my eyes and allowed my heart to guide me.

The clearing was familiar. Tall trees opened to a path that led to the ruins of a small, stone cottage. _No,_ I thought in panic. _I don't want to be here. _But, this is where my heart had led. I cautiously approached the perimeter of the ruins. It appeared that nothing had been touched since that tragic day. My heart raced in horror. _I can't stay_. Backing away, I turned and followed the gravel road leading to the village, picking up my pace to a near run. Reaching the village, I slowed by the fountain in the town square, struggling to catch my breath, and resting my face in my hands, but my feet kept moving, automatically taking me to where I knew I would be welcome.

The little bell above the door tinkled gaily as it was pulled open, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting into my deprived nostrils. The aged woman behind the counter looked a bit older, a few more grey hairs nearly erasing all signs of the black. She raised her head at the sound for the bell, and her hand flew to her chest as she stumbled backward slightly. A guttural cry of mixed surprise, sorrow, and excitement rang through the shop, as she appeared to swim around the counter to smother me in a loving hug. Her cry alerted those working in the back, and her husband and grandson raced from the kitchen only to stop in their tracks as they witnessed the tearful reunion.

"Mamma Mia! Cara! Look at you!" She finally pushed me to arms length, fingering my short hair and tapping my cheek. "Bella, bella. Are you here long? You will stay with us, yes?"

"Of course, she stays with us," Signore Campta boomed as he finally stepped forward. "Welcome back, cara." He scooped me into his strong arms, my face burying into his broad chest. "You are alone?" He looked around the shop.

"Yes," I nodded, a bit overwhelmed by the reception.

He shook his head sadly.

"I had work to do in Rome but had to stop to see you. You two mean so much to me." I held out my hand to grasp the old woman's.

"You stay as long as you need. Our home is always open to you," the signore invited as Signora Campta gushed and fluttered about the shop.

I spent the following few days absorbing the love and kindness that I was missing in my life. I was family here and accepted and loved as such. The Camptas and I spent hours talking about school and my work, their shop and the village gossip. It was like a breath of fresh air. I could breathe again.

On a walk through the village one afternoon, Signora Campta steered me toward the cemetery. I hadn't visited Saxon's grave since my return, and had trouble doing so now, but the signora kept a firm grip on my arm as she purposefully led me in the direction of the small plot under the oak tree. Severus had cast a permanent Clearing Spell on the site to keep it clean of weeds and rubbish, and small, familiar, dark purple flowers grew near the headstone. As I approached the tiny plot, my self-control crumbled, and I fell to my knees, sobbing into my hands. The signora stood back and patiently waited. She knew this was needed, and when I was done, she silently handed me a hardy, man-sized handkerchief to wipe my eyes with. It was a release, and as much as it hurt, it also felt better. Slowly rising to my feet, I touched the small buds of Dragon Weed and felt the power of the protective flowers. Smiling in satisfaction that my little boy would be safe, I turned to the old woman, grasped her arm for support, and headed to the cemetery gate. A low caw from the tree above Saxon's grave made us turn, and a young raven with glossy, black feathers and ebony eyes cocked its head curiously at us. Spreading its elegant wings, it lifted, and took flight. I watched as the bird glided gracefully in the air, circling the plot before it left the cemetery.

This visit had cleared my mind. I had work to do, and now, I could focus on what needed to be done.

The covert trip to Egypt led me to Jordan, which led me to Syria. Voldemort had been here, of that I was certain. He had taken possession of the Egyptian follower's body and, for some reason, was on the move back to southern Europe, I guess after realizing that the support that he thought he had in North Africa had crumbled with his demise. He was running, so to speak, uncertain for what to do. But, where would he go next?

By the time I reached Syria, the trail was dead, literally. I found the body of the Egyptian devotee in a marshy area north of Ar Raqqah near Lake al-Assad, along the Euphrates River. Using my empathic powers to contact the creatures who I thought may help, I found that they were either too afraid to speak or knew nothing. I felt as if I had reached a dead-end. After nearly two weeks of tracking every lead, I found myself sitting on the bank of the ancient river; tired, alone, frustrated, and desperately wanting to go home. It was as if Voldemort had simply vanished, slithering into the river, and disappearing from the world. I would have to cut my losses and return to England with what little news I had. It appeared that, although Voldemort seemed to possess only one power; the ability to infiltrate someone or something's body, he retained his ability to think and plan, and had a purposeful goal in mind: to regain his powers through the use of others.

As I rose from the bank and was preparing to Apparate back to Rome, I was suddenly struck with a searing heat to my centre of my back. I crumbled to the ground, and the world slipping into darkness.


	18. Chapt 17 Syria

**17- Syria**

The voices were definitely male, and they definitely spoke Arabic, not a language I knew well, but knew well enough to stay still and quiet, pretending to remain unconscious. They were arguing. It seemed that they all wanted a piece of me. The voices became heated and shoving began. _Crack_. Gunfire. A heavy thump landed nearby, and all was silent for a moment. Then, one man, who seemed to dominate, spoke. No one was to touch me. I was to be left alone until they received a good price. A shuffle of feet, the sound of a body being dragged, and I was alone.

My hands and feet were tied, and I was gagged with a foul tasting cloth. The hood over my face was rough and smelled of something that I couldn't identify, but I had not been beaten or abused. I was just being held. Shuddering violently, I remembered the last time I had been in a similar position, nearly six years ago. I was young and had lost my powers through the attack, but this was different. These were Muggles. Fear would only dull my power. I needed to stay calm and focus.

The ground vibrated slightly as one of my captors returned to the structure. I was pulled to a sitting position and heard voices approach again. This time, there was a dialect that I didn't recognize. I focused on the new voice trying to infiltrate his mind but was blocked, like hitting a steel, trapdoor. I was confused. Maybe it was the language difference. Maybe I need to actually see my target. Whatever the reason, I couldn't get a message across. I was hauled to my feet and could feel hands run roughly over my body, feeling the muscles in my shoulders and arms, and squeezing my breasts. A coarse hand ran up the inside of my leg, and I instinctively recoiled, trying to manoeuvre away. I was struck hard across the face for my efforts and stumbled backward into the arms of one of the captors. Harsh words were spoken, and the hood was yanked from my head as I was put straight on my feet again. I squinted at the onslaught of light, but held my chin high in defiance. Wrong move. I was struck again. The men wore traditional ghutras and kept the edge covering their faces. All I saw were their eyes. I lowered mine automatically; glancing up occasionally when I felt that no one was looking. There were five in total. Four were my captors, and one was bartering for me.

As the leader and barterer sat on overturned crates on the opposite side of the hovel, the guards took position around the room. Raising my eyes slightly, I silently focused of the man closest to me. _You have to pee,_ I repeated in hushed tones, sending images of rivers and waterfalls. Eventually, the man began to uncomfortably shift from one foot to the other until his dance drew the annoyed attention of the man in charge. My target was quickly dismissed with an obvious look of disgust. One down. Four to go. I directed my attention to the second man standing in the middle of the room holding a rifle. _You have fleas, _I suggested, images of insects crawling over him were placed in his mind. The second man began to scratch, slowly at first, but as the command was repeated the scratching became more intense. He became frantic and squirmed violently as if fire ants had infested his clothing. The leader and the barterer turned their heads toward the squirming guard. The leader yelled angrily, and the scratching man was given leave, running from the structure, arms flailing as I was eyed suspiciously. My head remained obediently down, hands and feet still bound, mouth still gagged. I was trembling. He waved me off dismissively certain that I couldn't have done anything; he was surrounded by incompetents.

As I began to work on the third man, the one closest to the door, I felt the bindings around my ankles loosen. I was puzzled. When the rope fell to the ground, the gag slowly slipped from my mouth. I was confused, my mind reeling at what to do next. I tried, discreetly, to glance around the room. Who had done this? But, as my head rose, the last guard noticed the missing gag and called attention to the leader. I immobilized the guard with a silent command, but the leader was on his feet, ready to strike as the barterer stood between us, offering his final price. Voices were raised, and two weapons were drawn: one pistol, one wand. _"Avada Kadavra"_ was followed by a brilliant flash of green, and the leader fell, horror in the remaining captor's eyes. The barterer spun and pointed his wand at the last captor. A second flash of green, and the second man fell. The barterer took two strides toward me, and I was spun to face the rear of the hovel. _"Diffindo",_ the bindings on my wrists were severed. Rubbing the chafe marks, I turned as my rescuer grabbed my arm and hastily pulled me toward the door. Transfiguring a black abaya and burka from a piece of cloth that covered the window, he threw it around me and adjusted his own ghutra. Never once did he make eye contact. Straightening to his full, impressive height, and stepping in front of me, he commanded, in Arabic, that I keep covered, walk two paces behind him, and keep my eyes down. Although I had difficulty with the dialect, I understood what to do, and as we emerged from the shack, I noticed that we were in a slum area of some random village.

I was quickly led through a putrid alley between the hovels to an abandoned storehouse about fifty meters away. My mind was formulating possibilities of how to get out of this. I could still feel the sting of whatever had struck me in the back and wasn't certain if I could Apparate without splinching. My curiosity also took hold. Who was this man? A wizard, obviously. I appreciated that he probably saved my life but… my rescuer suddenly turned and grabbed my upper arms. All thought left my mind with the sudden motion, and we Disapparated before I could stop what was happening.

The warm breeze gusted the abaya around my ankles lifting the burka slightly. We had landed on a sandy, white beach: rocky cliffs rising high behind us. My rescuer turned rapidly and began to climb as I stood, dumfounded, on the shore, staring at the calm azure water. A sharp call from the cliff's edge drew me from my daze, and I turned to the agitated Arab who was motioning for me to follow. It wasn't easy in the long robe, so I tucked the hem into the edge of my lightweight pants and heaved myself up the rock face. When I had a chance to look up, the man was gone, no longer waiting for me, and nowhere in sight on the rocky slope. I continued to climb anyway; maybe he had reached the top. About half way up, a hand reached out from a crevasse grabbing hold of my wrist, nearly throwing me off balance. I was hauled between two protrusions and into a small cave, hidden from the outside world. The only light was that of the sun shining through the minute opening. There was only one entrance and exit; the one I had just come through. Adjusting to the dimness, I strained my eyes to take in my surroundings. On the far side of the cave, I could make out a thin bedroll spread on the packed earth, a traditional Arab sling pack being used as a pillow. There was nothing else.

As I stood with my head down but eyes scanning the chamber, my rescuer approached. I could feel the tension as he paced before me. Finally, he began to rant, his hands cutting the air in sharp blows as a deep, low voice rumbled from within. He was angry and spoke fast. I didn't understand what was wrong, so I kept my eyes submissively lowered until he seemed to run out of steam. Stopping before me, he paused, obviously trying to maintain his self-control, but he began to gently remove the burka. A long finger caressed my cheek as he did so, and I involuntarily shivered. Was I, now, to provide payment for being rescued? I stood still letting things play out, not responding.

_Take a step away from me,_ I sent.

A low chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest as he took a step closer. Lightly brushing the knuckles of his right hand down my cheek and then running it behind my neck, he tipped my head back before raising his left hand to remove his ghutra. I shivered again as I looked up and was drawn into a passionate kiss. I knew those eyes, deep pools of darkness that I had been lost in so many times before. Burying myself in his arms, I succumbed to the safety and comfort that I knew I could rely on.

When we came up for air and stepped apart, his anger resurfaced.

"What in bloody Merlin's balls were you doing in that village? Have you any idea what kind of danger you where in? I can't believe Dumbledore sent you here! What was he thinking?" Severus began to pace again.

"Being in that village was not a matter of choice. I followed Voldemort to the river then lost him. His supporter's body is still there…as far as I know. I was struck in the back by something hot. It knocked me out. I came to in that shack. What are you doing here? I thought you were in exams?"

"Exams don't last forever," Severus snapped. "It's July, Daniella. You've been gone for weeks. Dumbledore sent me to find you. I've been following your trail for days. Yesterday, I had an overwhelming sensation from you, then nothing. I knew you were in trouble."

There was a pause as we stared at each other.

"I didn't know you spoke Arabic," I said oddly.

"I don't. The ghutra is charmed as a translator, but I wasn't certain of the dialect." He tossed the white and black cloth to the side, dismissively.

"Good thinking. I've been using a Disillusionment Charm for the most part, but when I reached the river, I was so tired that I let it go. I must have sat there longer than I thought."

Severus humphed and moved across the cave to the pack. Kneeling down and pulling it open, he withdrew a cloth and handed it to me. Accepting the package, I unwrapped it and smiled broadly. Food! Lifting the unleavened bread to my lips, I thanked him and began devouring it. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. He passed me a canteen, and I drank the sweet, cool water, magically kept to the perfect temperature even in the hot, Arabian climate.

With my hunger and thirst satisfied, Severus and I sat in companionable silence until my eyes began to droop, the events and emotions of the past few weeks finally catching up with me. Noticing my failing alertness, Severus rose and offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet and leading me to the bedroll on the dark side of the chamber. Without a word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and tenderly kissed my forehead. I smiled sleepily at him before curling into a small ball on the rough blanket. Through rapidly closing eyes, I watched as he stood by the crevasse, looking out onto the sea, standing guard. Giving in to exhaustion, I fell into a fitful sleep.

Grey images floated before my eyes, a constant hiss in my ears. A slow, rocking motion like a cobra being lulled by a flute made me nauseous. Black wisps danced on the breeze, then reached for me, wrapping around my body, tightening around my throat. I gasped, choking. I couldn't breath. Thrashing, I fought against my foe. The hiss grew louder, and a black tendril loomed before my face taking form as a hideous snake, tongue flailing from between pointed fangs, taunting me. Anger, frustration, and fear were consuming as I lashed out at the image, my eyes flying open as I bolted upright. Struggling to control my breathing, I gazed around the chamber. The cave. I was alone.

A silvery sliver of moonlight shone through the small opening, and I crawled slowly toward it, pulling myself to the edge, and cautiously looking out. The half, waning moon was on the decline, and the stars shone brilliantly in the dark sky. There were so many of them. Billions. I could hear the steady lap of the water against the shore below, and as I poked my head out further and glanced around, I spotted Severus sitting silently on an outcrop of rock about six feet to the right of the entrance, his silhouette outlined by the glow of the moon. He looked peaceful staring out over the sea. I emerged from the crevasse, and he silently turned and shifted so that I could join him. As I sat, he returned his gaze to the open expanse.

"Bad dream?" he asked calmly, his voice like velvet.

I nodded with a shiver.

He regarded me again. My face was drawn, and the sweat had not yet dried, plastering my tousled hair to my temples. I was still shaking. He fingered the abaya that I was still wearing and slowly drew his wand. A silent command transfigured it into a soft, warm blanket, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders drawing me close for both warmth and comfort. I melted, resting my head wearily on his shoulder, and we sat in silence for a long time.

"You've missed the full moon," Severus finally stated with quiet uneasiness. "Won't the wolf need you?"

His grip on my shoulder tightened slightly as he kept his eyes focused on the steady motion of the water.

"He'll live." I followed his gaze. "Belby will provide the potion."

There was silence again.

"You and the wolf have become close," he stated matter-of-factly.

I inhaled deeply, simply gazing out at the calm, thinking. "Yes," I admitted, my eyes never leaving the water,

He inhaled slowly, deeply. I could see his jaw flex. "Do you care for him?" he quietly pressed.

"Yes," I confessed barely above a whisper. "But, I can only love one man. No one will ever replace you in my heart. Ever. We are one. The Goddess saw to that years ago."

He exhaled gradually, the tension leaving his grip as silence wrapped around us while the night edged into early dawn.

The early morning sun broke onto the horizon, glistening magically on the tranquil waves of the Mediterranean Sea. Severus and I were still sitting on the outcrop, nestled in each other's arms, watching the sunrise. There was a comfort to be found in old allies. I knew that this bond could never be broken, regardless of what had happened. I think he knew that, too. Staring at the beauty of the dawn, we shifted and sat straighter, stretching our stiff muscles.

"Do you think you can find that spot by the river again?" Severus asked softly, as if not wanting to disturb the peace.

"Yes," I replied, covering a yawn. "There is a small grove of trees near where I lost him. The body was close by. It was far from the village. No one should see us."

"Do you have the strength to perform a Side-Along Apparition?"

"Once I wake-up fully, I should be okay." I shuddered as a light breeze passed.

Rising and offering me his hand, we climbed back into the cave, and he opened the pack again, producing several pieces of fruit and another chunk of unleavened bread. As we ate, we discussed plans for the day. I would Apparate us back to the Euphrates River, and we would try to locate Voldemort's trail together. I was still tired but having Severus with me gave me a new strength to push on.

The Euphrates was smooth and still, the deep bend of the ancient river slowing any water passing through. Apparating from the cave to the grove of trees was easy. I remembered this spot well and was pleased to find that it had been undisturbed. The body of the Egyptian Ministry official was still there. We would have to, somehow, alert the authorities. Severus and I searched the area for signs of struggle, signs of another animal, anything to tell us what Voldemort had done, but there was nothing.

"It's as if he just slithered into the river," Severus snorted in cynicism standing on the edge of the water.

I approached his side, and we both stood gazing out onto the shimmering flat surface, not knowing where to go next. Then, my dream came back to me: wisps of strangling black turning into a fanged snake. Maybe Severus was right. Tom Riddle had been Slytherin and a Parseltongue. Could he have taken over a snake and "slithered" away? We began searching the river's edge with renewed hope, looking for signs of snakes. And, there it was, the delicate side-winding mark of a water snake. There was elation at first, then the realization that there would be no tracking Voldemort now. We would have to wait until he surfaced again.

Turning back to the trees, Severus hesitantly strode forward. "We should head back to England and inform Albus of what's happened."

"You don't sound eager." I smiled up at him.

His ebony eyes bore into my blue, and I was sure I could see his soul. The tips of his fingers gently ran down my arm to my hand before he took a step forward, his face barely an inch from mine.

With a deep breath, he began. "I have you to myself for the first time in three years. No one knows where we are. What would one more day be?"

I grinned in agreement and clasped his hands in mine. "If you would do the honours, Sir. I really liked that cave."

The following twenty-four hours were heaven on earth. Severus and I laughed and talked, joked and cried, and revelled in our carefree moment away from the rest of the world. We were friends, first and foremost, and that friendship had endured tragedy, separation, and hardship, and was finally strengthening again. The truce we came to at Yule was merely a bandage on the wound, but this was true healing.

The sun shone hot on our skin as we lay on the beach watching a young raven bob and glide in the air currents above the sea. Severus had chosen this spot north of Latakia, near the Turkish border because of its isolation. We had no fear of being caught, but he had placed wards around the area just in case. There was no frolicking in the waves or silly antics, but there were quiet walks, comfortable conversations, and a picnic on the sand. It felt so good.

As the late sun began to set, we sat watching the magnificent colours paint the sky, and as darkness fell, we made our way back up the rocky incline to our hideaway. We were both tired from the events of the last few days and felt the energy leave our bodies as we stretched out beside each other on the bedroll. I lay on my right side, watching him as he lay on his back, his right arm tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. I could feel the heat radiate from his body and as hot as it was during the day, the nights got cold. I snuggled closer. His left arms instinctively wrapped around my shoulders pulling me into a protective embrace as he turned to face me. I returned the favour as my left hand slid up his back. The transfigured burka was still a warm blanket that now covered us, but I preferred Severus' warmth. As I stretched up to kiss his stubbly cheek, I heard a light snore. Smiling to myself, I turned, pulling his arm around my waist, having him spoon me from behind. _This is how it should be_. I smiled contently. _This is who I need._


	19. Chapt 18 Hail the Conquering Heroes

**18 – Hail the Conquering Heroes**

The trip from Syria to Rome to England was delightfully uneventful. Severus had agreed to inform Albus of my return, so all I had to do was wait for his owl in order to file my report.

Arriving at Radcliffe Camera in the dull, early morning, I cast a Disillusionment Charm and blindly walked the path back to the dorms. I was exhausted, and upon reaching my room, sealed myself in with every protective ward and spell that I knew. I needed to process what I had just been through. Taking a sheath of parchment and dipping my quill into the inkpot, I began to write, the events of the past few weeks pouring onto the stiff paper. When I was done, my cramped hands rolled the stack of parchment and slid it into a cylinder, waiting for Albus' owl.

Sitting on the soft, pale covers of the bed, my back against the flat headboard, legs outstretched and hands hanging loosely by my sides, I stared into space, my mind utterly numb. The bright sunlight that streamed through the window slowly faded into darkness as the moon rose high above the university buildings casting eerie shadows in the spartan room. Only a faint tap sounding on the windowsill roused me from my trance. Stiffly rising, I silently reached for the cylinder on the table and let the owl in. Absently attaching the roll to the bird's leg, I rapidly sent it on its way and re-set all of the wards, this time including a Silencing Charm. I didn't want to deal with anyone.

Returning to my position on the top of the bed, I rolled over and curled onto my side, still fully clothed and not having bathed, and continued to stare into the darkness.

The morning sunlight found me flat on my stomach still atop of the now-crumpled bed covers. My mouth was sour, and I felt grimy. My body was stiff and sore, and I loathed having to move, however, nature called, and this was one call that needed to be answered. Struggling to my feet, I stumbled into the bathroom catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the sink. Oh, thank Merlin I had locked myself in! What a mess! Running a hot bath and adding hamamelis to soothe my tired muscles and frayed nerves, the light scent drifted with the steam to fog the mirror and block the sight of my image. Stripping off the dirty clothes and letting them drop into a heap on the floor, I carefully climbed into the steaming water to soak and scrub until my skin was pink and wrinkled and the water began to cool. I hadn't realized the toll the past few weeks had taken until I finally began to unwind. Even the vegetative state that I had been in since arriving home hadn't induced what this bath did. My muscles twitched in small spasms as they began to relax. Pulling the plug and letting the water drain as I lay there, I slowly rose and turned the shower on to rise the last of the grit and bubbles from my body. A fluffy, white towel hung neatly on the back of the door, and I pulled it off the hook to wrap myself in it. Stepping over the pile of dirty clothes, I wandered lazily back to the bedroom to dress and was greeted by the delightful smell of warm muffins, a platter of fresh, cut fruit, and lemon tea. _Pinky_, I sighed contently. She was nowhere to be seen, obviously respecting my need for solitude, but I appreciated her effort greatly as I hungrily devoured the meal.

Bathed, fed, and feeling rejuvenated, I threw the curtains open to allow the full sunlight into the room. I startled at the sight of a medium-sized, black bird perched on the stony ledge. Strange. I had seen a lot of ravens lately: Rome, Syria, here. The window was open, and I lowered myself to come face to face with the creature. It tipped its head curiously and pecked the back of my hand lightly. I smiled and stroked its claw with my right index finger. It lowered its head to my finger, nudging it slightly with its beak. I stroked the back of its head, and it arched its neck appreciatively. When I stopped, it gently pecked my finger again, wanting more. I smiled broadly. Funny bird.

Considering each other for a moment, I ventured curiously, _W__here do you belong?_

It cocked its head and replied simply, _Here._

_Here? _I asked. _W__ith whom?_

_With you, _it said hopping a bit closer to the room.

_Who sent you? _I was suddenly cautiously alert, quickly scanning to see if this creature was an Animagus.

_I did, _it replied innocently looking into my concerned face_._

Positioning a chair by the window, I sat, absorbing the warm sunlight and regarding the bird. I felt no malice from the creature, just an overwhelming sense of a bond forming. I continued to stroke its glossy feathers, feeling strangely relaxed and at peace. It was no Animagus, just a raven.

_How did you get here? _I finally asked_._

_I followed you._

_Followed me? From where?_ I was puzzled.

_You were with an old one. You cried. I followed._

_Old one? Cried?_ It quickly dawned on me. The raven from the cemetery. But, how? Then, I thought again, this must have been the raven that was enjoying the air currents over the Mediterranean as well.

_You've been following me for a while, _I observed_._

It responded by fluffing up its feathers and resettling on the ledge.

Feeding the bird some fruit, it remained perched on the ledge as the warm summer breeze blew lightly. Drifting lazily, I closed my eyes and began to hum a lullaby from long ago. I don't know why. The raven nudged closer until its head rested on my arm. I smiled, creaking open one eye to watch the curious bird.

The Ministry owl arrived the following day. The Wolfsbane unveiling would be at the end of the week in the main lobby of the British Ministry of Magic. The press and special guests had been invited, including a delegation from the Italian Ministry of Magic. The British Ministry had waited as long as they could while I was away but now wanted to move forward. I was pleased. The potion should be publicly available by the end of summer.

I hadn't contacted Remus upon my return, figuring the time would come eventually. I realized that my behaviour, although acceptable for the passionate, Italian community, was not tolerable in the strict British Wizard society. I had embarrassed my working partner and myself. And, although I care deeply for this gentle man, I didn't love him, not the way he needed to be loved.

A meeting was scheduled with Belby the day before the ceremony to discuss the speeches. His arrogant demeanour was grating as he pompously strutted through his home, his meek wife fluttering at his beck and call. The potion had finally come to fruition. _He_ had succeeded. When I inquired about Remus, Belby glowered and was dismissive. He hadn't even thought of inviting him to the unveiling. I insisted. He had been our test subject. He had allowed himself to be poisoned. He deserved to be there, even if he didn't want the world to know that _he_ had been the werewolf that we had worked with. Belby waved his hand inattentively, bidding me to do whatever I chose. He was in his glory, and no one was going to ruin it.

A very diverse crowd of witches and wizards gathered in the gilded foyer of the Ministry building, mingling excitedly. Reporters from several countries buzzed around speaking with Masters and Ministry officials. Honoured guests were seated in the front row near the dais to have the best view. I looked on anxiously from the curtained side of the platform. I hated public speaking. I hated being the centre of attention, and as much as I hated the idea, I also welcomed the fact that Belby was going to do most of the talking. After all, the research did originate with him.

As the time drew near, I felt a hand gently land on my shoulder. Chairwizard Castwell smiled amiably at me as I nervously looked out over the crowd.

"You'll be fine," he reassured fatherly. "I have every faith in you." He pointed to the first row. "It's good to see the support your Ministry has for you. Not just your Minister but several officials."

I grinned proudly as I spied a group of four Italians sitting front row centre.

As the platform party gathered and ascended the stairs, we took our seats facing the congregation, my eyes scanning over those assembled. The press was there, and there were many familiar faces too: wizards and witches whom I had met over the years, Masters and Mistresses from the Society, Remus was sitting with Albus grinning happily, and Severus held his head over the crowd in the back, off to the left side, almost out of sight. Our eyes met for a moment, and as the Minister stood to begin the presentation, my mind drifted to that last day in Syria.

Our one day alone had been a reprieve from the stresses in our lives and an incredible time of healing. So much had been resolved, and renewed hope filled me. We had slept soundly on the floor of the cave, bodies moulded together, and come morning, I was certain that, regardless of what happened in our lives, this bond, our bond, could never be broken.

I felt the warmth of Severus' body against mine, the light snore still emanated, and I smiled softly to myself. Neither of us had moved, and he was still spooning me from behind, his left arm tucked under his head while his right arm rested loosely across my waist. I shifted slightly, my hip having lost feeling, and the movement disturbed the sleeping man. His hand splayed over my abdomen, and as he stretched slightly, I could feel the pressure of his pelvis against my backside, and I pressed back in response. Slow caresses began as his hand moved over my hip, down the side of my leg, back up and across my abdomen again. I shifted, and stretched the full length of my body against his, my hand reaching back to touch his leg. A feather-light motion of his lips, not quite a kiss, but a sensation that had me catch my breath and close my eyes replaced the scrape of the stumble of his chin against my skin. His lips tenderly ran the length of my neck to my shoulder and back, and his hand applied enough pressure to my stomach for me to arch against him. I turned onto my back, needing to face him, to touch him in return. The rare smile I received was enough to solidify my resolve to somehow make this relationship work.

His lips were soft and warm, and our love was slow and deep. This man knew how to touch me, how to reach the depths of my soul with a single caress. We moved together with such precision, such care, that both were satisfied repeatedly by the time the sun beamed through the small opening of the cave.

Sated, neither of us wanted to move, we wanted to hide, somewhere, anywhere, but we knew that was impossible. We had duties to fulfill, jobs to do, roles to play.

Finally, rising and gathering our belongings, we made our way down the rocky face of the cliff to the beach for one last stroll on the sand. Watching as a young raven swooped and played in the currents of air over the water, we walked hand in hand planning our departure. I would leave first, Apparating back to Rome and then Portkeying to Oxford. Severus would anonymously inform the Egyptian Ministry of the location of their missing official and then would return to Hogwarts.

As the sun beat down, heating the day, we stared mournfully into each other's eyes. I brought my hand up to push a stay lock of silky, black hair from his face and cup his rough cheek.

"This is not good-bye," I insisted firmly. "I will never say good-bye to you again."

His brow furrowed as he reached for my shoulders to silently draw me into his arms.

"Until we meet again, then," he whispered to the top of my head.

"Until we meet again," I repeated to his chest, holding him in a tight embrace.

I tipped my head to meet his lips and taste the sweet, salty softness. His hand ran up my back to my shoulder blades as he held me in place, deepening the kiss. When we broke apart, I could see his ebony eyes shimmer in the sun, tears unwilling to be shed.

Stepping back and focusing, our hands slid apart, and I repeated, "Until we meet again, my love."

"Until we meet again," was the last thing I heard before Disapparating.

"Mistress Daniella Di Marco of the Italian Ministry of Magic." I heard echo over the crowd, as all heads turned to me, snapping me back to reality, to today, to my having to get up and say something. Drat, I hadn't been listening at all. My stunned expression was obviously taken for nervousness as the official sitting beside me patted my arm and reassured that everything would be all right.

Belby was just sitting down so I assumed that he had just been speaking. Circe, I really should have been paying attention. I hope he had stuck to what we had discussed earlier; otherwise I was going to look like a fool.

Standing and running my hands over the skirt of my pale rose, linen robe, I made my way to the dais. Gripping either side, I looked out over the gathering and found Remus smiling up at me in silent reassurance. We hadn't spoken since my return. The time would come soon enough. Beside him, Albus held his head high, smiling genially at the platform party. Scanning further, I saw Severus sitting stiffly in his seat, gazing arrogantly through that curtain of dark hair. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and I twitched a smile, and began to relax.

"Thank you," I began as the applause dwindled. "This has been a culmination of dreams and visions, years of hard work and difficult trials. The results prove that persistence pays off," I joked lightly and waited for the chuckles to subside. Then, pausing, I slowly and seriously continued. "People call us "heroes" because of this treatment. I don't understand why? Mr. Belby and I shared a vision, independently at first, but finally realizing that our joint skills and resources would facilitate a more rapid conclusion. It wasn't merely our job - it was our passion. We had a desire to help others and had the faith in our abilities that we would succeed." I paused looking out over the silent crowd, stopping my gaze momentarily at Remus and then Severus. "To me, heroes are those who spend their lives, every day, facing challenges and adversity, and finding a way to get up each morning and face them all over again. They find strength within themselves to move forward, to strive for a better life, to do what needs to be done." Pausing again, I concluded, "Mr. Belby and I are researchers, not heroes, and I sincerely hope that this potion becomes available to all who need it as soon as possible."

I quietly studied the crowd and tipped my head in conclusion as I backed away from the dais.

This signalled the British Minister of Magic who gestured for Belby to join him. He, then, shook our hands in congratulations as cameras flashed, capturing the moment. The audience rose, applauding, and the platform party descended the stage.

The Italian Minister and my supervisor approached, hands outstretched and grinning proudly as reporters flocked around. This was big news. The first time in decades that two Ministries would share the results of research. Both Ministers chatted animatedly about the possibilities.

As I turned, I spied Remus striding purposefully through the crowd in a direct line to intercept me, his worn, tweed jacket and brown trousers standing out in the sea of Wizard robes.

"I knew you could do it," he exhaled through a broad smile, drawing me into a tight hug. "And, I'm glad you're back. I've missed you," he whispered.

Stepping slightly away, I smiling timidly as the camera flashes caught the reunion.

"I wish you had let me know that you were back," he continued looking a bit concerned.

I took a slow, deep breath and replied, "I was tired and needed to think. I've been through a lot lately."

He nodded understandingly. He was always understanding and patient. This was not going to be easy.

The reception that followed the unveiling was held at the Society of Potions Masters Manor House. Thankfully, no press was allowed.

Remus clasped my hand tightly as we walked the crushed stone path to the front doors. I wanted to withdraw my hand but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. I didn't want to make a scene, not here, not today.

"What planet was she on?" I overheard one Master ask another as we followed a group entering the manor.

"She's not very public. Maybe she was just nervous," someone defended.

"I'm not certain. Surely she would have reacted somehow when Belby didn't even acknowledge her contribution. If it wasn't for the fact that the Minister had identified her as Mistress and that they were both being awarded publicly for the potion, he would have taken all the credit," a middle-aged Master "tsked" and shook his head.

"She did well by not following suit and by graciously mentioning him in her speech. She was well-spoken, humble, and compassionate. I think that all in attendance recognized her for that," an elderly Master added.

The small group "hmphed" and then parted as they saw Remus and me following behind.

"You did well," Remus leaned close and praised. "But, I have to agree, I can't believe you didn't even flinch when he kept saying "I". I wanted to jump up and say something, but Professor Dumbledore had his hand on my leg."

I smiled in amusement. "He had to hold you down? My saviour," I chuckled lightly.

Remus squeezed my hand gently, keeping his voice low. "I cannot express everything you make me feel."

Oh dear, this _was_ going to be difficult.

Belby and his wife had entered the manor first, against protocol, but no one said anything publicly, and Remus and I slid in almost unnoticed as the guests milled about. House elves skittered about with trays of drinks and snacks, and it wasn't until the Italian Minister made a grand gesture, weaving through the crowd to hug me and kiss each cheek that people knew we were there.

"We are so proud of you," he exclaimed with a flourish. "I am excited for this accomplishment. It will be good for your new position."

Remus' head shot toward the Minister, and the comment caught many people's attention. Silence hung in the air as the guests waited to hear more.

"What? You've said nothing?" he asked me in surprise, gazing over the hushed crowd.

I shook my head, "no". I didn't feel that this was the time or place to make such an announcement, but my Minister didn't take heed. Flamboyantly draping his arm over my shoulder and turning me to the crowd, he announced, "Mistress Di Marco has accepted the position of Head of Research in the Experimental and Medicinal Potions Department in our Ministry when her schooling is complete. The youngest we've ever had."

A surprised and hurt look crossed Remus' face. This wasn't the news he was expecting to hear. I silently chastised myself for not telling him myself.

Accepting congratulations from various guests, I managed to extricate myself and work my way to the refreshment table where Remus was now standing with Albus. He didn't look happy. Pouring a glass of punch, I turned to look at the two men. Albus reach to grasp my hand first.

"This is wonderful news, dear. Congratulations," he said quietly as he let go and slipped away.

"Yes, great news," Remus tried to sound enthusiastic but fell short, sounding more dull than pleased.

"I had intended to tell you personally and certainly not here," I replied in a low voice, leaning toward the hurt man. "So much has happened in the past month, and we haven't had a chance to talk."

"Tonight, maybe?" He said with hope in his soft, grey eyes.

Before I could answer, a shadow loomed over the table, and a deep voice hissed, "Lupin," it acknowledged. "Mistress Di Marco."

We glanced up to find Severus not more than a foot away, looking as imposing as ever.

"Severus." Remus nodded in greeting. "Umm, good to see you again."

Severus scowled and stared him down. "I doubt that," he sneered.

Turning away from the werewolf, his lip curled in disdain as if he were forced to do something against his will. It was almost painful to watch.

"Mistress Di Marco, congratulations," he nearly choked on the words. "I must question the company you keep, though." He eyed Remus objectionably.

Remus stood his full height to defend my honour. "She is incredible at what she does. If it weren't for her efforts, many who suffer from lycanthrope would have no hope."

"Hmph," Severus snorted. "I certainly wouldn't have done it."

"Too altruistic?" Remus quietly shot.

"No," Severus replied smoothly. "It would have made _your_ life easier. I couldn't have that now, could I?"

I placed my hand of Remus' arm as he looked like he was ready to take a swing at Severus. I shook my head, ever so slightly, silently cautioning him to stay calm.

Severus caught the by-play, and a cruel smile made his thin lips twist upward at the corners.

"It seems that she has you on a leash," he sneered amusedly. "How appropriate."

Before Remus could reply, Severus spun sharply, his robes spinning around him, and he strode off toward the main entrance hall.

"What was that all about?" I asked, stunned.

"Ancient history. Maybe I'll tell you sometime," he responded, flexing his hands, his shoulders slumping forward depressingly.

After making the obligatory rounds with the Chairwizard and Senior Masters, Ministry officials and guests, I finally managed to slip out the front door with Remus in close tow. Belby was still basking in the glow, his wife grinning adoringly by his side. Albus had left nearly an hour earlier without saying "good-bye", and Severus had disappeared shortly after that. I had managed to convince Remus that I was tired and needed to organize my thoughts as I was scheduled to continue in the university lab the following day. He was obviously disappointed and a bit confused as I kissed his cheek and bid him "good night" at the entrance to the residences but said nothing as he dejectedly walked away. We had agreed to meet the day after next in Hogsmeade.

My heart was heavy as I climbed the stairs to my floor. I didn't want to hurt this man. He had been through so much in his life. I would have to word things carefully.

Approaching my room, I felt a tingle of a spell being triggered, and standing in front of the door, releasing the wards, a message glowed on the wood for a moment then vanished. I smiled as my heart lightened.

_Until we meet again._


	20. Chapt 19 Remus' Heart

**19 - Remus' Heart**

"What in blue blazes did I do to tick off this blasted bird?" Remus exclaimed waving his hand in the air, fending off a very annoyed raven.

Every time Remus stepped close to me, the raven would dive at him, swooping close, batting him with its wings, and occasionally pulling his hair.

"I really couldn't tell you," I chuckled, extending my hand and hauling him up the grassy incline of the hill behind Hogsmeade as the bird made another approach.

We had met in the town square late that morning and skirted as many of the Saturday shoppers that we could. The day was proving to be a bit dreary as the sun struggled through the clouds. I had reduced a picnic basket to the size of a handbag, and we hiked toward the hill where we had our first outing last summer. Enlarging the basket, we spread the blanket on a level patch by a shady tree and began to unpack our lunch. The raven was now perched above us, eyeing Remus suspiciously. I chuckled again as the lunch was laid out, and it swooped down to sit on the edge of the blanket with us.

"Cheeky little creature," Remus said amusedly as he unwrapped a sandwich, extending a crust to the bird, hoping to make peace. The raven eyed the bread and hopped forward as if to take it but pecked Remus' hand instead. Remus withdrew his hand sharply, examining the mark and looking exasperated at the offending bird.

"Stark! That's enough," I chastised, glowering at the mischief-maker. "If you can't behave then you're not welcome here."

The bird hopped sideways and onto my lap. _He's not for you_. It eyed me meaningfully_. __The dark one is for you_.

_How do you know about the dark one? _I asked curiously_._

_I saw you by the big water far away. _It cocked its head knowingly_._

I smiled, our silent conversation being observed by the man who Stark did not approve of.

_I'll go if you want. _The raven fluffed its feathers indignantly.

_Thank you_. I gave a brief nod as the raven spread his wings and took flight, making one last swoop at Remus' head before leaving. I had to grin at his antics. To think of a bird being protective of me. How ridiculous!

"You talk to animals?" Remus' eyebrows rose as he watched the bird glide over the village.

"I'm a regular Dr. Doolittle," I joked in return. "We, kind of, adopted each other. It followed me back from Rome."

"You're kidding?" Remus was astonished.

I shook my head. "Remember our conversation a year ago? I told you that I was an empath. That extends to animals. At first, I thought it was an Animagus, but realized that it's just a bird. We seemed to have forged a bond."

"You named it "Stark"?"

I nodded. "I don't know why. It just came to me. Dark, brooding, alone. Something in the eyes." I shook my head at the thought.

With Stark gone, Remus and I were finally able to have our lunch in peace. We were quiet, sensing that something was amiss and neither knowing exactly where to begin. I was the one to finally break the silence. Taking a deep breath, I apologized for not getting in touch with him as soon as I returned, and although I didn't go into detail, I reassured him that most of the trip had been work related. I just didn't elaborate on what kind of work. Returning to Italy after being away for so long had been difficult. I had never told him my exact reasons for leaving, just that it was painful. He quietly listened to my explanation as he leaned back on the blanket, propped on his elbow, those soft grey eyes watching me intently. He knew I had come to England because of Oxford and the Wolfsbane Potion, but I could see the tension building in his arms and jaw as if expecting something else.

"You're always working," he sighed, shifting his gaze over the rolling green landscape. "And, I was part of that work, wasn't I," he stated certainly.

"It began that way," I responded truthfully. "After all, that's why I was here, but as we got to know each other, I came to enjoy your company and …feelings grew."

We regarded each other in silence for a moment.

"You know," I continued softly, "in all the months that we've been intimate, never once has either of us professed our love for each other. Not even a whisper in the lull afterward. We've said that we care, that we mean a lot, but not once have we…"

"Would that make a difference?" He firmly questioned, the hurt beginning to show. "Fine! I love you, Dani. You're important to me. I didn't think that I had to spell it out. Gods, I've never let anyone get this close." He scrubbed his hands across his face as he sat up and rested his elbows on his raised knees.

"Remus." I reached out tentatively to touch his shoulder, but he shrugged my hand away. "I care very deeply for you, but I have obligations and priorities that override my feelings. People have worked hard to give me opportunities, and I must repay that debt. You knew that I'd be returning to Italy eventually. I told you that in the beginning. I don't regret what's happened between us, but I've made a commitment to complete this research within a year. I don't want to lose you completely, but I can't be distracted, and you are definitely a distraction." I tried to lighten the mood. "I want to remain friends, but I think that an intimate relationship would be unwise, especially knowing that we're only postponing the inevitable."

My heart went out to him. I could feel his pain, his rejection.

"Do you think that we can be friends?" I asked hopefully.

"Right now, I'm not sure." He lowered his head between his arms. "In my head, I understand your position, but in my heart…" He balled his fist to his chest and held it there as if suppressing the pain, his eyes closed, and he turned his head away for a moment, trying to steady his breathing.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," I said, finally reaching my hand to his shoulder without being brushed away.

Silence surrounded us again. Even the birds nesting nearby seemed distant. I lowered my hand, and we sat for a moment absorbing what had been said. I really did care for him, but I knew that I couldn't give him the love he deserved. Using work as the excuse was perfect and still the truth, but my heart belonged to someone else, and that was something that I couldn't let him know.

It was Remus who finally broke the silence. Standing and offering me his hand to rise, he pulled me to my feet and began folding the blanket. "I think your lunch is over," he stated dully, reducing the blanket and tucking it into the picnic basket.

I wanted to cry. I'd lost his friendship.

Following the path back into town, we silently walked the main street toward the town square, but Remus sidetracked into a small shop, the smell of sugar and chocolate wafting into the summer air. A slight, uncomfortable twitch played on the corner of his lips, and as the shopkeeper emerged behind the counter, he ordered as small bag of almond bark, something he had bought me during our first visit to Hogsmeade last summer. I could feel my chin begin to tremble.

As we left the shop and approached the square, I felt an overwhelming urge to throw myself into his arms, to stop the hurt that I felt emanating from him, to stop the hurt that I was feeling. But, I held back, my arm merely brushing against his as he turned toward me at the Apparition point. He handed me the Honeydukes bag of chocolate and attempted to smile again. I couldn't.

"I'm going to miss the day before the full moon," he said with a sheepish grin.

I snorted in surprise at the remark. That was the time when sex was the most intense. His inhibitions were non-existent, and the "beast" was in his blood. I shook my head, finally, smiling at him.

"Is that all you can think of?" I asked with an uncomfortable chuckle.

"No, but it hurts less that way. I don't want to lose you, but I do understand. Friends may take a while, but I would like it as well. Can we see each other sometime?"

I nodded, and smiled up at him. "We'll have to unless you want to get your potion from Belby. I made a promise to keep you in supply as long as I can, and I intend to keep that promise."

He nodded briefly in return and handed me the picnic basket.

"Can I kiss you good-bye?" he asked uncertainly.

Before I could answer, the knuckles of his right hand brushed my cheek and his lips were on mine in a sweet, sorrowful kiss. I responded in kind feeling his heart pound against my chest, and as he backed away, I could feel the tears well in my eyes. I stood, watching, as he turned to walk the path back toward the main street, his shoulders and head slightly slumped forward, hands stuffed into his pockets. It was a vision of pure dejection.

Apparating back to the campus, I dimly remember heading to the dorms and letting myself in. The room felt empty, and as I strode to the window, I noticed Stark perched on the sill, eyeing me expectantly.

_Well?_


	21. Chapt 20 The Messenger

**20 – The Messenger**

The months passed at an unseen rate, the familiar routine of: eat, sleep, and work taking over.

There was no need to see Belby anymore. Thank Circe. The last few months with him had been unbearable, his arrogance and condescension seething every time we met. Our work together was mercifully done.

Remus came by the lab for his potion every month, not wanting me to go to the Shrieking Shack, fearing that it would open old wounds. Our relationship was mending slowly, and the physical connection that had been born from a mutual need was fading, gradually growing into an understanding friendship. We occasionally met for lunch and would spend that time talking. I missed his steady demeanour, his easy laugh, and his company, and hoped that our friendship would continue.

The work at John Radcliffe Hospital was progressing well. There were now several patients eager to try the new, test treatment, and the Oncology department was stunned by the source of the research. Although the treatment wasn't a cure, it certainly made life easier for the recipient. The original doctors and the patient whom I had dealt with during the first year were encouraging and willing to support my work. My reputation in the Muggle medical world was growing.

Professor Cornwall met with me frequently and even though the lab on campus had been assigned strictly for my use for the duration of the doctorate, he granted me unlimited access. The labs were usually sealed by ten o'clock, but knowing that I tended to stay well into the night when I was on a roll, he issued a security pass to ensure that I would have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. This made life for me both easier and more difficult. Pinky had taken to hunting me down occasionally to make sure that I ate.

Professor Kurtz kept a close eye on me as well. He was a strange one, but I sensed that he was just looking for companionship, someone who didn't ridicule him and who wasn't afraid of him, someone who he could talk with but who wasn't a colleague or student. One day, he had surprised me by arriving with a packed lunch from a small deli on High Street. I took a few moments away from the research to sit and enjoy his company as we ate. That in itself, was a reprieve for both of us and would have shocked anyone who saw.

Emily and Colin were married in September at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, on campus, and I was one of nearly two hundred guests in attendance. I was surprised at the number of people, and when Emily confided that she didn't know half of them; I questioned why they had been invited. She shrugged with a smile, "family and family friends". In all honesty, I had never been to a wedding before, either Muggle or Wizard and couldn't wrap my brain around the opulence, pomp and pageantry of the whole short procedure. It seemed like a waste of money and energy. When she questioned me about my wedding, I didn't know what to say. It had just been Severus and me, and it wasn't even a handfasting. How could I explain the blessing of the Goddess? What happened had been unexpected and very spiritual. And, although we had called each other husband and wife, in reality, it had never been sanctioned by the Ministry or by a priestess. We merely recognized it ourselves. In our hearts, we were married, but technically…?

At the end of September, Albus and I had met in the safe house in Cumberland. Things in Europe looked calm, and Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. School had begun, and he was pre-occupied with getting things settled. This led our conversation to Severus. I hadn't heard from him since the Wolfsbane unveiling in July and had no idea where he had spent the rest of the summer. Even Stark went in search of him to no avail. Albus reassured that he was fine and needed some time to get his thoughts sorted out. He was reluctant in issuing the next bit of information but felt he needed to prepare me. Severus had renewed his alliance with Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy's wealth and position had saved him from Azkaban, and he had been leading a quiet life being the master of his small family but was now beginning to flex his muscle again. Severus wanted to re-establish the link, knowing that Malfoy's ambition and interest in the Dark Arts would resurface eventually. Albus and Severus wanted to be prepared. My stomach turned.

Candles shimmered in the fading light of the late October afternoon casting shadows that stretched across the plush, round rug in the centre of the sparse room. The table that served as a desk was strewn with papers, notes, and textbooks of various sizes and ages. A half-eaten tomato sandwich had been pushed aside, and the plate teetered on the edge. I was completely immersed in the work, as usual, another thought taking form as ingredient qualities and possible combinations were scratched out. This potion had to work without magic so that a Muggle team of scientists could reproduce it. The end of my pen tapped my chin as I thought.

A low caw drew my attention from the notes to the window. Since the summer, it seemed that my home had become Stark's home. When the weather was fine, he was able to come and go as he pleased, but now that the weather was turning cold, I had to keep the window closed, and he had to get my attention in order to get in and out. I stretched as I rose, rotating my wrist and shoulders to relieve the cramp. I'd been writing for hours. Crossing the room, I opened the window to let my feathered friend in on a gust of cold air. Perching on the inner ledge, he ruffled his feathers and spread his wings, welcoming the warmth.

"And, where have you been?" I asked with an amused smile as I offered him a crust of the sandwich, and stroked his sleek, black head.

He rubbed his beak across my finger, then flew to the cluttered table to retrieve another bite. I chuckled at the familiarity of the creature. When he was done, he perched on the back of my padded chair while I sat on the edge of the bed. He seemed almost annoyed.

_You know where he is. Why don't you contact him?_ Stark asked sounding like an exasperated child.

"It's complicated," I explained aloud.

_No, it's not. I see owls flying in and out of the castle on the hill all the time. You're smart. You can think of a reason to send him a note._

"As you see, I don't have an owl." I waved my hand around the room, making an excuse.

Stark craned his neck upward and ruffled his feathers again, balancing on the back of the chair; he expended his left leg forward.

_Go ahead. Do it,_ he offered as if he were suffering a great indignity. _I'll take the message._

I laughed as he lost his balance and comically fell backward, flying to the table to regain his composure. Renewing the stance, he held his leg out again, beak held arrogantly high.

"You'd really do it?" I asked thoughtfully through the chuckles.

Stark cawed lowly and dipped his head as if to nod.

"Okay, we'll use this as a test run and see what happens. But, you must be aware, the reason that we're not together is to keep each other safe. We have jobs that have put each other in danger in the past and neither of us want to go through that again."

Stark planted both of his feet back on the table and nodded in return. _I'll be careful,_ _and I'll wait for a response…unless he shoos me away. You know, he's not very nice._

I grinned and nodded. "He is with me, and if you do this, I think you may see another side of him eventually."

Stark waited patiently while I penned a quick note to Severus. He took the note in his beak before I re-opened the window for him to leave, and as he sat on the ledge, ready to launch, I stroke his back and whispered for him to "be careful". He nudged my hand gently, and as I opened the window, he let the autumn wind gust under his wings as he headed north.

I could only imagine Severus' reaction as Stark arrived at breakfast the following morning. The composure of the High Table was surely disrupted with the arrival of a young, inexperienced carrier raven amongst the morning post owls. It probably drew the attention of many students, as well, that the "dungeon bat", as he had confided to me during the summer, would receive any sort of mail. I could just see the scowl on Severus' face as Stark landed in front of him, dropping the missive onto his plate, and waiting expectantly for a reply. Severus didn't know that Stark was mine. I would have loved to see his expression as he read the note.

_Trial run number one._

_Testing one, two, three._

_Did you get the message?_

_D_

I know it sounded silly, but it also seemed harmless, just in case it didn't get through.

Stark returned later that night with a scrap of parchment in his beak.

_Message received._

_S_

The midnight moon was high, and the circle was cast in a barren space among the grand monoliths of Callanish on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. A cold breeze blew around the ancient structure creating small whirlwinds resembling miniature tornados. I had returned to this spot each year that I had been in England, almost out of instinct. This was the site and night of my conception, and tonight, I felt a great power surge. It was Samhain – Halloween – the major of the major Sabbats, and the most powerful night in Wiccan lore for magick.

I placed crystals in the elemental positions, lit the candles, and pushed the heavy cloak from my shoulders ready to begin. Standing in the centre of the circle wearing only a thick black robe and black, leather ankle boots, my wand was raised high, pointing to the glimmering moon, invoking the Goddess and the God, and welcoming the Elemental Guardians to join me for this rite.

Stretching my arms to the heavens, I opened myself to the influence of the ancients, seeking the wisdom from those who had gone before. I looked for reassurance and guidance that all would be well and that what I did with my life was right and true. A yellow-white aura began to form around the edge of the circle, and I could feel the energy surround me, encompassing me in the globe. The wind suddenly died, and an eerie stillness settled before a sudden gust surged and whirled, stirring the dust from the ground into a thin funnel that reached to the top of the dome. Specks of light scattered on the current, forming images that I slowly began to recognize: my parents. Neither spoke as the dust and light particles whirled around me in soothing comfort, but I felt it. They were proud. I was filled with such a depth of emotions that I felt that my soul would burst.

As the wind died and the dust settled, I collapsed to my knees, thanking the deities and guardians for always watching over me, and thanking the ancients for allowing my parents to surface. I was exhausted yet elated. It had been a long time since I had felt such a connection. Staying in that position for a while, I mediated, blessing those who had passed before, and welcoming events to come, knowing that I would have guidance.

The frosty glow of dawn began to break on the horizon before I began to stir. The ancient energies that were absorbed gave me a renewed strength. I was ready to face anything.

Apparating back to the dorm, I found Stark perched on the window ledge. Hastily scribbling a note, I gave it to the bird to deliver. After a quick shower, I crawled under the warm covers of my bed, drifting into a sound sleep.

Rain pelted the frozen landscape as I sloshed my way through the fenced-in yard to the heavy, wooden, back door. The house was dark and well-warded, but my passwords still worked, having never been changed. The door creaked slightly as it opened, and I entered the cold kitchen, dusting the cobwebs from the doorframe with my hand, and placing a small, cloth grocery bag on the table. It looked like no one had entered since my last visit in September.

The first _"Lumos"_ lit the small chandelier over the kitchen table, and the second, the wall sconces in the hallway that led to the sitting room. I set some logs in the fireplace and cast _"Incendio",_ the heat from the fire quickly staving off the dampness and cold. Glancing at my watch, I noted that I was on time.

I couldn't believe that my directness had worked. Stark returned from his journey with a sealed parchment held proudly in his beak. The message was cryptic, but to me, easily decipherable.

_SH_

_FN 9_

_S_

Safe House, Friday Night, 9 pm, Severus.

I made myself a cup of tea, unpacked the groceries, and curled up in one of the over-sized armchairs in the sitting room to wait, listening to the rain strike the small, paned windows.

The clock above the mantle chimed the hour: ten o'clock. Severus was late. I flipped through an old tome from the bookcase, patiently waiting.

The mantle clock chimed again. I must have dozed off. Eleven o'clock. I stirred the fire and added another log, pulling an old blanket around me as I sat. I was beginning to feel abandoned.

Startling awake again at the disturbance of the wards, I aimed my wand at the doorway, just in case. Severus stalked in, his cloak dripping from the rain, his hair plastered to his face. He was fuming.

"Put that thing down," he ordered sharply. "It's me."

He whipped off his cloak and hung it on a hook by the fireplace. Warming his hands above the flames, I could see him take several deep breaths.

"Rough day?" I asked innocently.

"It's not easy for me to get away," he hissed. "I'm head of Slytherin House. I have duties beyond classes. I can't just disappear without warning."

"Is that why you're late?" I questioned again.

He eyed me angrily over his left shoulder, his greasy, black hair hanging limply over his forehead, his scowl deeper than I'd ever seen. His back was poker straight as he turned and stood in front of the fire, facing me.

"I'm late because Gryffindor and Slytherin are rivals, and they seem to delight in attacking each other at every opportunity. Professor McGonagall interrupted a hexing match between several students after dinner and insisted that I deal with my House immediately."

He paced toward the middle of the room and stopped before the other armchair. I rose and approached cautiously. Standing in front of him, I gently tugged the waist of his frock coat urging him to sit. He resisted. Watching me suspiciously as I began to unbutton the long row of fastenings, he stiffly allowed me to push the coat from his shoulders and finally guide him to the chair. He flopped down with an obvious sense of relief that belied his outer demeanour.

I moved behind him and gently pushed him forward slightly. Rubbing hands together and breathing deeply, I felt the healing power emerge. Starting at the base of his scull, I slowly ran my thumbs down his spine from his neck to the middle of his back, shaking out the negative energy. I repeated this gesture several times, increasing the pressure slightly with each movement. Spanning my hands across his shoulder blades, I began to massage the tension from his back and shoulders. He was one big knot. Slowly, his rigid posture crumbled, and he slumped forward, elbows on his knees.

"I'd forgotten how good you are at that," he muttered as his head fell forward with a low groan.

I smiled. "Would you do something for me?" I asked gently.

He groaned again in response.

"Could you please take off that horrid charm? I want to see the real you."

Reaching for his abandoned coat, he retrieved his wand from the sleeve and slowly raised it to his chest, casting _"Finite Incantatum"_. His hair remained lank, a result of being in a Potions classroom all day, but his other features softened.

I smiled again as I felt him begin to relax under my touch.

Gradually sitting straighter, he reached his left hand to his right shoulder to stop the massage, grasping my right hand and tugging me around the side of the chair. As I emerged at his right, his free arm reached up and hooked around my hip, turning me and pulling me onto his lap, my legs dangling across the cushioned arm. His smile was tired as he placed a chaste kiss on my lips, and I sat cradled in his arms for several silent minutes.

"Are you hungry?" I finally broke the silence.

He shook his head. "Your note said that we needed to talk."

I nodded. "I think you're too tired to talk. I hope you don't have to be back tonight."

"No," he replied. "I let Albus know that I'd be out for the evening, but Slytherin versus Ravenclaw in Quidditch tomorrow morning. I have to be there."

"Early?"

"No."

"Good." I snuggled closer, enjoying the warmth and comfort as the icy rain battered the small, stone house. "We can talk in the morning, if you like."

He gave a non-committal grunt as the heat from the fire and the quiet of the house eased his frayed nerves.

After a time and with a reluctant groan, I heaved myself off the worn-out man and reached for his hand, pulling him to his feet, and leading him down the hallway to my old bedroom. A quick _"Scourigify" _eradicated the dust and cobwebs as we removed our outer clothing and climbed into bed in our knickers. Shivering between the cold sheets, we sought each other for warmth, and sleep quickly found us.

"Why is it that I always fall asleep when I'm with you?" Severus mused while buttering a stack of toast. "I've never needed much sleep, that's why I patrol the halls at night. But with you… do you cast some spell on me that I don't recognize?"

"Maybe," I wagged my eyebrows at him as I flipped the eggs from the frying pan onto the plates, chuckling as I joined him at the table. "No," I relented. "I think you're just comfortable with me. I know you and you don't have to work at pretending to be someone else."

He "hmmed" as he placed a rasher of bacon onto my plate. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" he began knowing that time was short.

"I know that you have responsibilities at school, and you know that I have obligations to get my schooling finished, but I want to see you occasionally, and I was hoping that you felt the same. There has to be a way to work it out."

He gazed silently into his breakfast. "My position will always be precarious, and I don't want you to get hurt." I could see memories clouding his eyes.

Reaching across the table and placing my hand over his, I gave it a slight squeeze. "I know about Malfoy, and I'm not talking about moving in together. I'm talking about seeing each other, maybe meeting here once in a while. We need each other in order to stay balanced. Caro, you're my other half. What do you think?"

"I think that the past few years without you have been the most miserable of my life. I would like to try to work something out, and as this is already a "safe house", maybe it could work. By the way, where did you get the bird?"

I smiled. "He found me."

Severus' eyes widened in shock and surprise, expecting the worst. I held my hand up to stop the impending reprimand.

"Fear not, I've already checked. He's not an Animagus, nor is he "working" for someone else. I first spotted him in Tuscany, above Saxon's grave. I saw him again in Syria. You were there, too, the bird over the water," I reminded. "He followed me to Oxford." I shook my head remembering. "There's something about him. I feel a bond somehow, and he wants us together."

"Funny, I felt a bond, too. I couldn't place it or explain it," Severus said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because he's a link to you."

I shrugged nibbling the toast.

Severus left the safe house before I did. Quidditch was waiting. We had agreed to keep in touch and meet when we could, but there was also a clear understanding that work came first and safety was an issue. It would always be.


	22. Chapt 21 Stolen Moments

_**21 – Stolen Moments**_

November passed in a blur. In the first days, the doctors at John Radcliff met with me regarding some side effects that had developed with the test treatment, nothing serious, but something that needed to be dealt with immediately. The following weeks were spent between the lab, the hospital and the library looking for a solution, and just when one side effect was eliminated, another would develop. It was very frustrating, and I was hard set not to use magic to fix the problem. All it needed was a simple Balancing Spell to counter the interaction of two of the ingredients, but as this potion was to be replicated by Muggles, I had to restrain my natural instinct. By the time December rolled around, nearly all of the side effects had been eliminated, and the patients were reacting positively. Things were looking up.

A light snow drifted lazily upon the elegant white structure, landing gently on the festive wreaths that adorned the massive front doors. Candles glowed in each frosty window, gaily welcoming guest arriving from the Apparition Garden. A gently waltz floated on the night air, mingling with the animated conversations of the friends and colleagues visiting inside.

Another Yule celebration at the Society's Manor House. Another year gone by.

I stood outside atop the sprawling flagstone steps, listening to the drone of voices from the grand hall. I hadn't seen Severus since the beginning of November, although we sent the occasional note. He would be here tonight, and I had "dressed" for the occasion. He always liked me in blue, so using last year's royal blue satin robe as a base I transfigured a few alterations. I liked the drop shoulders and low neckline and added a thin silver edging of Italian knot work. The lace bell sleeves and false bodice were also changed to silver, giving the dress a very festive look. Adjusting the cloak over my shoulders as a cool gust of wind blew around the corner of the building, I approached the front doors. They opened automatically to let me in. Pinky was on the other side waiting patiently.

"Is Mistress alright?" she asked noting my hesitation.

"I'm fine," I replied with an anxious smile as the cloak slid from my shoulders and was handed to the waiting elf. Crouching slightly as other guests arrived, I quietly asked, "How have you been? I haven't seen much of you lately."

Pinky blushed at my familiarity. "I is fine. Mistress has been very busy. Pinky tries to stay out of Mistress' way."

I shook my head sadly. "I enjoy having you around, Pinky. Don't ever think that you're in my way," I assured the little elf.

Proud tears brimmed in Pinky's bulbous eyes as I smiled at her and stood straight. We nodded amiable to each other as she disappeared with my cloak clutched tightly to her chest. Wandering toward the reception hall, I met Chairwizard Castwell greeting guests at the entrance. He grasped my hand in his as he elegantly kissed the back. Other guests followed behind, and we didn't have a chance to chat before I was swept into the brightly lit hall. The commotion of voices and music assaulted my ears. I was used to a much quieter environment. Greeting several colleagues, small talk seemed to be a necessity tonight, something that I wasn't very good at, but since I would be returning to Italy by the summer, I needed to re-establish some of my former contacts.

Dancing with Master Trevedi from the Indian Ministry, he expressed his pleasure at my return and seemed quite impressed with the progress that I had been making. When the music ended and we broke apart, I was accosted by the leering wizard who I always tried to avoid at these functions. He never looked me directly in the face. His eyes were always diverted about a foot lower to my cleavage. Granted, my particular choice of dress tonight invited such attention. I just didn't want it to be his!

He invited me to dance. I politely refuse and tried to sidestep him. He blocked my path.

"Just one," he insisted as his hand reached out innocently, invitingly.

"Just one," I relented. _What could it hurt?_

The music began as he roughly pulled me into his arms, grinning. How I hated that grin. Dancing far too close and far too slow for the style of music, I tried to push him back, but his grip was firm.

"Sir, would you kindly loosen your grip?" I calmly demanded.

His grin broadened as he leaned his face close to mine, the smell of coffee and cigarettes on his breath. "No," he replied lasciviously as I recoiled, wincing at the odour.

As I was about the resort to suggestive magic, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, and he spun to confront the interloper.

"My turn," the baritone voice hissed softly in a near threat as the leering wizard released his hold on my waist. Severus towered over my present partner, his classic black dress robes were edged with Slytherin green and silver, his hair falling limply over his forehead.

"You've got to be kidding. You're actually going to dance? With her?" the leering wizard chuckled as he relinquished me and motioned to the others that Master Snape was actually going to dance with someone. "She's all yours," he dramatically bowed as he moved toward the refreshment table. He was thoroughly entertained. Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing elf, he mockingly toasted Severus who bowed slightly to me. Taking the waltzing stance, I was gracefully led around the dance floor while the area cleared, guests moving aside to watch.

"Isn't this contrary to your character?" I whispered as we spun, completely thrilled that we had this chance.

"Yes, but not unredeemable," he replied as I passed under his arm. "This was actually on a dare from Master Whitherling."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A dare? And you took it?" I responded in quiet shock.

A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. "If you recall, Master Whitherling knows that we were once acquainted years ago in Italy and has noticed that we remain distant. "Let bygones be bygones", he said. "I dare you to dance with her." How could I refuse such an opportunity?" The corners of his lips twitched repeatedly as he suppressed the smile that I saw glowing in his eyes.

As the music ended, he gripped my hand tenderly and bowed slightly again, then spinning on his heel, he strode from the dance floor, leaving me standing alone looking bewildered. My face flushed crimson as I unsteadily made my way to a row of spindly chair along the wall. Several Mistresses quickly joined me, asking if I was all right, fanning me and getting me a glass of punch.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Not much of a conversationalist but a pretty good dancer," I quipped with a seemingly nervous chuckle.

They smiled comfortingly as they scanned the room, locating Severus alone on the far side, looking as imposing and unapproachable as ever.

"I'm fine," I repeated as I carefully lowered myself into a seat.

As the night wore on, Severus and I played a mind game that kept us entertained. Whether we were across the room or near each other, I would communicate empathically to him, and he would respond in gesture, although there were a few times when I was certain that he had sent thoughts as well, but they were untrained and scattered. He had to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays as many students were scheduled to stay, but we planned to meet for New Years. No one knew of our conversation, and although we didn't dance again, the evening was enjoyable. I left before he did, wishing that I could have kissed him "good-bye", but a brief moment of joint _Legilimens_ had to suffice, the intense, buried emotions being mentally emitted.

I woke Christmas morning to the delightful smell of a full English breakfast: eggs and sausages, fruit and toast, tea, and a small clumsily wrapped package by the plate. Pouring myself a cup of the hot liquid, I sat at the table and unwrapped the parcel. It was a child-like drawing of a witch with short hair and an elf with pink ears. They were standing side-by-side, holding hands, smiling. I held the picture to my chest, my heart swelling with emotion.

"Thank you, Pinky. I'll treasure it." My voice was low, not knowing if she was still there.

Finishing breakfast and dressing for the day, I was startled by a light knock at the door. Casting the usual spell, I swung the door open with a welcoming grin.

"Happy Christmas," I chimed to my guest.

"Happy Christmas," Remus replied uncertainly. "I wasn't sure if I should come unannounced."

"You're always welcome, Remus. Anytime. I thought I made that clear. Come in," I invited, pulling the sleeve of his dark grey, woollen overcoat. "Have you had breakfast?"

He nodded as he glanced around the once familiar room. "I brought you a present," he said as he dug in his coat pocket to produce a long, brightly wrapped box.

I accepted the package and anxiously pulled the paper from it. It was a beautiful blue quill and inkpot set. "I love it!" I exclaimed giving Remus a radiant grin and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"The quill matched the colour of your eyes," he said twitching a shy smile at me.

I cocked my head sideways and narrowed my eyes mischievously. "I'm glad you came by. I have something for you, too." Moving to the bookcase to retrieve a flat box from the shelf, I handed it to my friend. He carefully removed the paper and stared at the gift. It was a collection of Muggle jazz artists for his phonograph. I remembered his love for music, and his smile was priceless.

"I'm going to the Weasley's for dinner tonight. Would you care to join me?" he invited happily.

I thought for a moment and then shook my head. "I'm sorry. I'm due at the hospital this afternoon."

"Work," he declared downcast.

I shrugged. "That's the reason I'm here," I said sadly. "Can we get together next week?" I asked hopefully.

His smile returned, and we made plans to meet for lunch the following week.

The Oncology ward at John Radcliff was decorated in garish red and green metallic streamers, a huge Santa poster taped to the vacant wall by the nurses' station. A miniature, silver Christmas tree stood on the counter obscuring the attending nurse sitting behind. I really didn't have to be here. I could have gone to the Weasley's with Remus, but I didn't want to encounter Arthur. It had been seven years since I'd last seen him, a lifetime ago. Although with my Vagueness Charm, he wouldn't recognize me, I would feel uncomfortable being there.

I pleasantly greeted the nurses on duty before making my rounds to visit the test subjects. The new adjustments seemed to be working well, and there no longer appeared to be any side effects. The patients appreciated the holiday visit and some wondered why I wasn't with family, or at least a boyfriend. I avoided the questions with quick-witted answers and after nearly three hours decided to head out. As I emerged from the last patient's room, a familiar voice called from the end of the corridor gesturing that I join him. The doctor in question was one that I worked with closely in this study, and as I approached the solarium, I noticed that a small party was in full swing. Doctors and nurses mingled in the semi-sterile environment, and as I entered, a glass of punch was thrust into my hand by a cheery candy striper in a Santa hat. The doctor smiled and waved but continued his conversation with his colleague. Feeling out of place, I slowly tried to extricate myself from the gathering. Nearly making it to the door, I saw that Professor Kurtz was unintentionally blocking my path, hands stuffed into the pockets of his brown trousers, a cream dress shirt peeking out from the top of his argyle sweater as he unconsciously rocked from heels to toes.

"Good afternoon, Professor," I approached amiably.

"Leaving so soon?" he quipped sharply.

"I wasn't really invited," I replied gazing at the crowd. "I just happened to be in the vicinity."

He grunted in response as his eyes scanned the room. "I was, but I think my name was merely part of a master list. I don't associate with any of these people."

I stood beside him in the doorway watching the proceedings.

"I don't belong here," I stated flatly after a few moments.

"Nor do I," he added in a matching tone.

"Care for an early dinner?" I invited cheerily.

His eyebrows rose to his slightly receding hairline. "Dinner?"

I nodded with an impish grin. "Yes, you know, the sharing of food. It's not like it's a lifetime commitment or anything, just two people needing to eat, unless that sound I just heard was a sign of another gastric deficiency other than hunger." I smirked as I threw his words back at him. Pausing and pretending to think for a moment, I continued, "I seem to recall a small seafood place just off High Street that serves great crab cakes."

He snorted at the memory of last Christmas. "Making it an annual event?" he asked.

"While I can," I responded merrily.

He nodded his agreement and turned to leave. At the last moment, I reached out and held him in his place, leaning close, and kissing him lightly on the cheek. He startled and abruptly pulled away as I smirked and pointed up. Rolling his eyes, he moved away from the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorframe. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was blushing.

New Year's Eve found me in the cramped, dark kitchen of the Cumberland safe house, the smell of prosciutto flatbread, antipasta fritto, and scallops cefelu filling the structure with the smell of "home". A fire was blazing in the small sitting room warming the entire house, and an open bottle of Merlot sat breathing on the kitchen table beside two wine glasses. I had been planning this night for days. Severus was due soon, and I was, oh, so ready. It was nice to actually cook again. It was something that I had come to enjoy when there were others to cook for, and something that I hadn't been able to do since being at school.

Arriving earlier in the day, I began dinner and spent the afternoon cleaning and straightening the nearly abandoned building. I hadn't spoken to Albus yet but didn't think that he would object if Severus and I used this house on occasion as we had done in the past. Severus was right. This was the perfect place. It was secure and unplottable, and even though the war was well over and people were moving on with their lives, Severus would never be truly safe. I understood his caution. We didn't want a reoccurrence of Tuscany.

While removing the bread for the oven, the back door blew opened, and a black-cloaked figure was propelled in on a chilly wind. Turning and quickly closing the door behind him, Severus slipped off the cloak and inhaled deeply, the etched creases around his mouth and eyes softening as he stood in the doorway absorbing the scent.

"That smells so good," he breathed, a small smile played on the corner of his lips, a look of peace creeping over his features.

I approached and relieved him of his heavy cloak, hanging it on a cast iron hook behind the door. Then, leading him to the table and pouring him a glass of wine, I smiled at my love as he wearily sat on a stiff, wooden chair.

"I spoke with Albus this afternoon and let him know that I would not be available until sometime tomorrow," he began. "Several students from Slytherin have stayed behind this holiday, and although I'm entitled to time off, I feel that if I disappear for too long, it may be questioned."

"I'll take whatever time I can get," I purred as I crept behind him to rub his shoulders.

He reached his hand up and gently grasped mine to stop me. "That always puts me to sleep," he sighed. "I don't want to sleep. How long until dinner?" I recognized the sparkle in those ebony eyes.

"The bread is already out. The antipasto is made but takes only a few minutes to fritto, and the scallops will be done in about twenty minutes. If I lower the temperature and cast a Delaying Spell, it could take an hour, and the meal will not be ruined." I twitched a meaningful smile at him.

His left eyebrow rose with a smirk, and with a graceful swoop, he was on his feet with me tossed over his right shoulder. "Cast the spell, woman. I have plans for you," he demanded playfully as he turned toward the hall that led to the bedroom.

The bread was cold, and the scallops were rubbery by the time we finally emerged. It was well over an hour, and the spell had worn off. Padding to the kitchen in bare feet and loose robes, we discovered that, thankfully, the meal wasn't completely ruined, but a change of venue was definitely in order. Warming the bread in the oven and frying the antipasto to dip it in, we sauté the scallops in olive oil in hopes of getting rid of the overcooked texture. Piling the meal onto a tray and grabbing the bottle of Merlot from the table, we headed back to the bedroom. Umm, time to get creative.

The clock in the sitting room chimed midnight as I sat astride Severus' hips, our fingers interlocked, eyes closed, riding the burn that grew into a fiery flame with the final chime of the timepiece. This was the first year that we had ever spent New Years together, and I would be grinning to myself for the rest of the week remembering the events.

Students returned from holidays, and the buzz of classes, dorm chatter, and study dates echoed through the hallowed halls. I had never associated much with those who shared the residence, except for Emily and Colin, preferring to isolate myself with my work. If all went well, I would be presenting my final dissertation within the next few months. The original thesis: _Dysfunctions of the Intercellular Transmission Systems_, expanded far beyond what I had expected. The lycanthrope research had opened a line of thought that applied perfectly to the Muggle cancer research, and as a bonus, with my experience as a Potions Mistress, I had created a couple of minor treatments for various side effects of the traditional cancer treatment. Although, my thesis was well proven and documented, a new "treatment" for lymph node cancer had yet to be developed. Luckily, for my doctorate, I didn't have to provide the "cure", merely support the possibility that one could be found…in time.

January disappeared, and the cold rains of February washed away any hope I had of meeting Severus for Valentine's Day. It was on a Saturday this year, and Albus had planned the customary Valentine's Day dance. Severus had been roped into chaperoning the Hogsmeade weekend and the dance for that night. I shook my head, smiling in disbelief. How he managed to get saddled with both duties, I'll never know.

Waking that morning to the patter of rain and a sharp tap on the window, I tossed the cozy covers back and pulled the curtains open. Stark was perched on the outer sill, hunched against the ghastly weather. Quickly opening the pane for my "friend", he flew inside and landed on the table, shaking the water from his glossy feathers, drenching everything within a five-foot radius. A thin, red ribbon was loosely tied around his neck, a small box attached to it. Pinky had arrived sometime before I woke, and I fed Stark a piece of toast and fruit from the plate. Untying the bow and releasing the package, I stroked the bird's head in appreciation of his efforts.

"I haven't seen you in a while. I was beginning to get worried," I said as the creature craned his neck to have fuller contact with my hand.

_I've been with the dark one,_ he replied dreamily.

"Really? I thought you said that he wasn't very nice."

You said that I'd see another side of him eventually. He hasn't shooed me away, and his chambers are warm.

"You've been to his chambers?" I questioned in surprise. That's closer than I'd gotten.

_Yes. He asked that I not go to the Great Hall when everyone is there, and I remembered that you said you tried to keep each other safe. I promised to be careful. Are you going to open that? _He nodded to the package. _It was hard to carry_.

Returning my attention to the small box in my hand, I unwrapped the gift and lifted the lid. Another more elegant case was within. Lifting the black velvet box out, I opened the hinged lid. An onyx and silver band with a small diamond embedded in the centre was nestled amongst the soft folds. My eyes widened as I drew a deep breath. It was beautiful. Removing the ring, I slipped it onto the little finger of my left hand, and it magically shrank to fit perfectly. A short note in spidery script was pressed into the lid of the case. Prying it out and unfolding the slip of parchment, it simply read,

_Happy Valentine's._

S

Not a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes. Stroking the underside of Stark's neck, I asked, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to go out in this weather again, would you?"

If a bird could give the "evil eye", I think I just received it. _Later? _he replied crisply_._

"Of course," I answered. "You rest. How long would it take you to get there?"

If you want to send him something, I'll make sure he gets it by tonight. If he's not in his chamber, I'll wait.

"Thank you." I was truly grateful for this cheeky, little creature.

I spent the better part of the morning hunting for the perfect gift, finally jotting down an ancient spell that I had heard my mother use on occasion for my father when he was away. My note was brief.

_To be used when alone._

_Happy Valentine's._

_D_

My nerves were on edge. Professor Cornwall had called me into his office last week to give me the "good news". The date had been set for the final dissertation. I had less than two months to prepare. He and Professor Kurtz felt that to wait any longer would be fruitless. The requirements needed for the doctorate were complete. I had done what I had set out to do, and then some.

A late March rain spattered against the tall windows of the Bodleian Library as I curled up in a large square armchair on the far side of the room, away from the stacks. The reading section was comfortable and spacious, and several other students enjoyed the sanctuary of the hall on such a grey day. Flipping through an old tome of Boccaccio's stories, I glanced up to acknowledge the person who acquired in the chair opposite me.

Smiling slightly, I leisurely turned another page. "What brings you here in the middle of the week? Don't you have a class?" I asked absently, not raising my eyes.

A hand reached over and tipped the book so the title showed. "Boccaccio? A little light reading?"

"Do you know who Boccaccio is?" I asked cheekily.

My guest shook his head.

"He's one of Italy's most renowned literaries of the fourteenth century, a humanist. He was a contemporary of Dante and Petrarch. It's rather like reading early Shakespeare in Italian."

My guest shook his head looking mystified. "I couldn't figure Shakespeare out in English. I wouldn't even attempt it in another language."

I laughed lightly, slipping a piece of paper between the pages, and closing the book on my lap. "I haven't seen you in a while. What's up?"

Colin leaned back in the chair, nearly disappearing in the depth. "Emily and I want to know if you'd join us for dinner this weekend. You're right, we haven't seen you in a while and would like to catch up. Besides, she has this new recipe that she wants to try, and I'm getting tired of being the guinea pig."

"Doesn't cook well?" I mused.

"She tries, but she's got this thing about being "creative" at the moment. Think you can make it?"

"Of course. Tell her I'll be there. Can I bring something?" I volunteered.

"A stomach pump?" Colin joked.

"Not nice," I scolded as I slapped his leg playfully.

As we sat chatting, a shrill shriek echoed through the cavernous hall as a large brown and black owl swooped from the vaulted ceiling in search of its target. Gracefully landing on the arm of my chair, it urged me to take the envelope from its beak while a stunned Colin, along with several other student and faculty, watched on. My face went scarlet wonder who dared to send a post owl to hunt me down. Quickly tearing the envelope open, I scanned the letter.

_Mistress D. Di Marco,_

_It is with great pleasure that we invite you to share your knowledge of your present study at our next symposium to be held May 1 st._

_Please acknowledge receipt of this message with the owl._

_Sincerely,_

_C.J. Castwell_

_Chairwizard, Society of Potions Masters_

"I've heard of carrier pigeons but never a carrier owl," Colin quipped shaking his head, watching me interact with the bird.

Thinking quickly, I remembered my excuse when an owl arrived at the Campta's a few years ago.

"I have a friend who trains owls like pigeons. He finds the more reliable and cleaner. They can also carry heavier loads." I shrugged, scribbling an acknowledgement and handing it to the bird.

Colin watched in amazement as the bird took the note and launched into the air. "Cool!"

The afternoon of May first found me with my head in the wardrobe tossing possible robe choices onto the bed. I had been so absorbed in preparing for tonight's "talk" and preparing for the dissertation, which would be in two weeks that I completely forgot about what to wear. It was too late to make a trip to Diagon Alley, so I was frantically hunting my meagre collection for something appropriate, something that would hide this damn nervous blush. I couldn't believe that I had been asked to speak. It was such an honour.

Dejectedly flopping into the nearest chair, I examined my options. Standing and pulling a classic, black robe over my head, a faint 'pop' sounded as I struggled to fasten the drawstrings up the back. _What was I thinking when I bought this?_ I wondered. It looked frumpy with its traditional high collar and long tight sleeves. _I look like I'm going to a funeral!_ Heaving a heavy sigh, I turned to find Pinky standing near the bed fingering a pale rose-coloured robe. When she saw me watching, she quickly withdrew her hand, embarrassed at being caught.

"It's alright," I said gently. "I had one similar to that in Italy. It used to be my favourite."

"It's beautiful," she whispered, touching the gossamer material.

I smiled. Yes, it was, but my complexion had paled since being in England, and the light colour no longer suited me. Thinking and smiling kindly at the diminutive elf, I placed my hand on the robe and darkened it to a deep shade of rose, a cross between the pale pink and burgundy. Pinky clapped her hands in delight and bounced happily, a big, toothy grin spreading across her face. The neckline was high enough to hide the blush, yet the material was light enough to keep me cool, and the colour blended well with my hair and complexion. Perfect.

Arriving at the appointed time, Chairwizard Castwell excitedly met me at the front door of the manor and ushered me into the lecture room where I met the other speakers for the evening. My topic tonight was on my Muggle thesis, but with a twist - the comparison between lycanthrope and lymph node cancer, how problems within the intracellular transmission systems affects both wizards and Muggles. After having thought of the situation, I felt that it was a good opportunity to practice for meeting with the panel of Muggle professors and administrators who would judge my doctoral work.

The evening went better than I anticipated. One of the other speakers went before me, so I had time to scan the crowd, picking out familiar faces. Master Trevedi was there, as was Master Whitherling, looking dashing in his well-tailored dress robes, a couple of witches that helped me at the Yule party, and of course, Severus, sitting in the back row, nearly obscured by his hair and the crowd. When it was my turn, I ascended the podium, smiling shyly at my colleagues.

"Those of you who know me, know that I'm not one for public speaking," I began nervously, grasping the dais, and trying to lock on Severus for support. "My research all began with an interest in lycanthrope. I had wonderful encouragement from my Ministry and from the members of this Society, and was able to further that interest with study."

As I spoke, I began to relax. This was a topic I knew well. It had been my passion for years, and to be able to share that knowledge and my experiences with others was exhilarating. I'd never been able to do that before. Slowly taking command of the crowd, my confidence growing, I drew them into the paradigm by using them as part of a physical model. I had several members up and out of their seats participating, and when I finished, I was surprised to receive a stirring round of applause, some even stood. It was thrilling.

When I relinquished the podium to the next speaker, he began his talk jokingly with, "How can I top that?"

The audience laughed, and my blush returned as I smiled happily from my seat.

When the symposium was over and the guests and speakers moved into the reception hall, many witches and wizards gathered around to congratulate me on such a dynamic speech. Never had they been asked to participate in a discussion. My example of how the neurons and transmitters worked by using the audience as the model was inspiring. I should become a teacher, they said. I nodded my thanks but reassured that I enjoyed research and had no intention of changing professions.

As the evening wore on, I could feel the fatigue of the last few days catching up with me. I wanted to speak with Severus but couldn't seem to get a moment alone with him. Standing at the punch bowl, I received a strong, focused empathic surge. _When you're ready_, it said. Puzzled, I spun to face the room, scanning the gathering for the source of the communication. Across the room, through the crowd, I spied Severus with his back firmly against the far wall, staring at me through the curtain of lank, black hair, an intent look on his face.

_Was that you?_ I sent.

He nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes never breaking contact. App…_arden…en…inute…_

He was trying hard, but the complete message wasn't getting through, so I repeated, _Apparition Garden in ten minutes_.

He nodded again and turned for the door. I felt a well of emotion rush through me. I'd finally get to speak with him tonight.

Quickly searching out the senior masters and Chairwizard Castwell and thanking them for the evening's opportunity, I gathered my cloak and made a hasty exit to the gardens. As I approached, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, grasping my upper arms firmly and spinning me onto the magical patch of grass, Disapparating before I could get full footing on the ground and before my mind could formulate a destination.

Arriving in a familiar stone fenced backyard, I grinned up at my captor, not hearing the 'pop' that arrived a split second after our arrival.

"You could have warned me," I said, the excitement of being here with him fluttering in my stomach.

He merely smirked and bade me to close my eyes. Leading me into the house, though the kitchen and into the sitting room, he placed me in the centre of the chamber and stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my shoulders before commanding that I open my eyes. When I did, I was struck with the most amazing sight. Every available flat surface – floor, tables, mantle, even the windowsill, was covered in deep, red roses. My jaw dropped.

"A rose for every moment I think of you, every moment you are in my dreams, every moment I wish that we were together. Happy anniversary, cara. Ti amo."

I was speechless. Turning in his arms, I did the only think that I could think of. I kissed him, long and deep, my arms rising across his chest to wrap tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as I could get.

"I love you, too," I breathed, finally loosened my grip and snuggling into his chest. My arms were wrapped around his waist, his chin rested on the top of my head, and a pair of bulbous eyes stared in shock from behind a Concealment Charm in the corner of the room.


	23. Chapt 22 Home Is Where The Heart Is

**22 – Home Is Where The Heart Is**

A long, slightly calloused finger lovingly ran the length from my brow over my cheek to my chin as I smiled up into shining, ebony eyes. Although it was late, it was still May first, and he had remembered our anniversary. "_Accio_"ing two glasses of champagne and a bowl of strawberries from the low table on the far side of the room, Severus led me to a loveseat by the fireplace. The over-sized armchairs were gone, but the loveseat was curiously covered in the same material.

Raising our glasses in a toast, his deep voice said smoothly, "To you, my love, for never giving up on me."

Our glasses clinked, and we drank, nestling down before a low fire in the grate. It was comfortable to be here in the quiet of our hide-a-way, no charms or spells between us, and we talked lowly to each other about our time apart, what we had been doing, and what was to come.

Severus fumed about teaching and complained about the dunderheads he was forced to instruct. How could he teach those who didn't want to learn? They had no clue what lay in their futures. They needed to be ready, he insisted. I could see how much he cared for those in his charge regardless of his ranting. He put up a good front. I could also tell how much he missed active research, and when I suggested that maybe he start some projects in his spare time to get his mind on something other than those that vexed him, he huffed, "What spare time?" Between duties with Slytherin House and doing the "extra work" for Albus, there was no such thing.

As the evening wore on, we laughed about Stark's apparent adoption of us, or us of him, and how he managed to get into Severus' chambers before I did. Severus shook his head at the thought of the curious bird. There was something about him that created a bond between the three of us. I agreed.

Slowly, the subject sombrely changed to my dissertation and the inevitability of my leaving England. He was encouraging when I showed my nervousness at presenting the thesis, reminding me of what a "spectacular" job I did at the symposium tonight.

"You had them eating out of your hand," he exclaimed raising his glass in a slight toast.

I thanked him for his support by removing the champagne flute from his hand and playfully placing small, quick kisses up his neck to the sensitive spot behind his ear. I was rewarded with a smouldering upward twitch of his lips and a glint in those stygian eyes that had me grinning with expectation. With a quick swoop, he pressed me backward into the loveseat, his body strategically placed over mine.

"This seat is too short." His brow furrowed in complaint as he tried to stretch his six-foot frame over the four-foot length. I wiggled seductively against him, grinning mischievously. "And, you're not helping," he groaned as my hips rubbed against his groin.

"I wasn't trying to," I smirked, purposefully rubbing against him again.

"And, they call _me_ bad?" he leered as he tried to manoeuvre to get his balance. Placing his hand on the edge of the loveseat to hold his weight, it slipped, and he tumbled to the right, rolling off and onto the floor, pulling me on top of him in the process. Landing with a thud on his back, I lay sprawled across his chest, both laughing at the ridiculousness of our position.

"Are you alright?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I couldn't have planned it better," he replied flexing his hip against my abdomen so that I could feel his meaning.

Lowering my head to the crook of his neck and nibbling his ear lobe, I cooed, "The floor is not as comfortable as the bed."

He nodded in agreement and unceremoniously rolled me off, pulling himself, rather ungracefully, to his feet. Dusting off his trousers and looking down to where I was still slumped, he raised an amused left eyebrow and formally inquired, "Do you intend to stay there? I have no intention of starting without you."

Slowly rising, I crept my way up his long legs to the row of tiny buttons on his fine, woollen frock coat, attempting to unfasten a few along the way. "Good. I'd hate to miss anything," I purred, finally standing and pulling at the waist of his coat, leading him toward the hallway that led to the bedroom. He allowed himself to be guided as I walked the length of the corridor backward, managing to make it to the room without bumping into a wall.

"I'm impressed," he stated, that eyebrow rising again.

"Not as impressed as you will be," I assured as I slowly ran my finger down the length of the buttons, casting a silent spell that unfastened them.

Both eyebrows rose as he looked down to find his coat undone. Casting a similar spell, the buttons at his wrists were also unfastened. The shirt would be next. He stood silently still, allowing me to do this, an impish smirk beginning to form. Spreading my hands across his chest, I pushed the fabric open, running my fingers through the light spattering of dark hair, tenderly kissing one flat nipple and then the next. A light shudder ran through him as his eyes closed, and his head began to tip back. Pushing the coat and shirt from his shoulders simultaneously, his arms were momentarily pinned before the clothing dropped to the floor. Once his hands were released, he began his own assault. Gently turning me away, he took his time unbuttoning the holdings of my dress, kissing a path as the fabric slowly fell open. My head tipped forward as his lips caressed the back of my neck and shoulders, his hands slowly massaging my upper arms, tugging the delicate fabric from my body. The robe soon found itself pooled on the floor with Severus' coat and shirt as I stood in a thin, white shift before him. Turning to face my lover, he drew me into a tender, yet passionate kiss, a light pink aura beginning to form around our bodies as hands stroked in loving caresses. Lifting the shift over my head, I felt the back of his knuckles deliberately stroke my hardening nipples eliciting a shiver that nearly knocked me off my feet. I returned the favour by undoing the waistband of his trousers, my hands traveling to his back and tucking in between his warm skin and the boxers, pushing the material down and off while pulling him close. Leading him to the bed and climbing between the cool sheets, we snuggled into each other, building the warmth. Splaying my hand across my abdomen, he watched, his hand over mine, as I silently cast an Infertility Charm. There would be no children.

The clock in the sitting room struck one, and the aura that glowed in the bedroom shone a deep, passionate red. No fire was required to stave off the early May chill. We created our own heat. Our bodies were moist as hands continued to roam, eliciting moans of pleasure as we arched and moved as one. We were perfect together, anticipating each other's needs and desires. This man knew how to touch me, how to draw into my deepest passions and stroke them to ecstasy. As I felt the fire build in my core and my muscles begin to compress around him, I opened my eyes to see his squeezed shut in concentrated control.

"Let go," I moaned, my hands moving to grasp his buttocks.

He shook his head, no; his extended arms were beginning to quiver as he held himself up.

"Let go," I repeated as our thrusts became more intense, the sweat dripping from his temple as I arched against him.

Again, he shook his head, no. "Ladies…first," he exhaled in a near groan.

I let the fire spread through my body, into my chest, and flush my cheeks, my muscles clamping around him in spasms as I rode the waves, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as I could. That was all it took. His thrusts became erratic as a low groan built from deep within his chest. Spilling into me with one last push, his arms finally gave way, and he lowered onto me, breathing heavily and quivering slightly. I stroked his back gently waiting for him to regain his strength, enjoying the feeling of this union. Finally rolling onto his back and pulling me under his arm, we lay in the silence of the dark room. My left arm was sprawled across his chest, and our fingers toyed with each other. He touched the ring and smiled. I had written to thank him, but he had not seen it on my hand. He held it up to look at it in the pale moonlight.

"Some day, you'll wear a ring on the proper finger," he said with promise, planting a chaste kiss on my forehead.

I smiled against his chest. "Some day," I repeated sleepily. "You never did tell me if you used your Valentine's gift," I snickered.

"Repeatedly," he exclaimed quietly. "Where did you find such a spell?"

"My mother," I answered.

"Your mother!" he choked in surprised laughter. "Gods, I would have liked to meet her. Your father was a lucky man. But you," he gently rolled toward me, "are much better in person," he said nuzzling my neck with that nose of his.

Finally nestling down under the cozy covers and drifting into a content sleep, we were completely unaware of the voyeuristic little house elf who had watched the entire proceedings from the corner of the room, hidden under a well-designed Concealment Charm.

The doctorate presentation was a success, as Severus had predicted, and the final result arrived in June. I had spent the past month tying up loose ends at the hospital and packing my meagre belongings. Graduation was fast approaching, and I would be leaving England soon, returning to Italy to resume my post at the Italian Ministry of Magic, and continue my vigilance with Voldemort. I was torn. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with Severus and my friends, but as my life had never really been my own. I was obligated to return, to continue my work, and keep my eyes and ears open. Another war would happen eventually, and we would be ready, even if the rest of the Wizard world was in denial.

Light clouds floated through the pale blue sky as the crowd gathered on the pavement outside of the Sheldonian Theatre. This particular ceremony seemed a lot longer than the last one. Maybe because I knew it was finally the end. Maybe because I had sat there, alone in the crowd, knowing that I was the only doctoral candidate graduating today and would be the last to receive my certificate. As I walked out into the bright sunlight, I felt a wave of relief and sorrow until I was suddenly accosted by a tall brunette with a crushing hug.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you!" Emily exclaimed. "It's done, Doctor Di Marco!" she said proudly.

I beamed from ear to ear. Her excitement was contagious, and as I returned her hug, we were joined by another couple.

"We saw them in the audience and invited them along. I hope you don't mind?" Colin explained as Remus and Albus approached, Remus in his faded, brown suit, and Albus looking like the doddery, old uncle that could never match his clothes properly.

"Headmaster," I offered my hand formally still grinning.

"I am very proud of you, my dear. I knew you would do it," he congratulated as he took my hand warmly in his, clasping it tightly between his palms.

"So did I," Remus beamed and drew me into a hug when Albus let go.

"I would love to stay and celebrate with you, but duty calls. We will get together before you return to Italy," Albus instructed with a twinkle in his faded blue eyes as he wagged a crooked finger at me.

I nodded in agreement, receiving a mental note to go to the safe house the following afternoon. As he bid the others "good-bye" and disappeared into the crowd, Remus walked proudly by my side as Colin and Emily led the way to the familiar haunt of the Red Lion Pub.

The Red Lion was more crowded than usual for a Wednesday night, others having the same celebratory intent in mind. Colin and Emily had insisted we go out, and they weren't taking "no" for an answer. Sitting at the usual table in the rear of the pub, the four of us raised our mugs in a toast, ale sloshing over the sides slightly as they clunked together.

"Two years!" Colin exclaimed wiping the foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand. "Two years and a successful treatment at John Radcliffe! Unreal. I guess that's what you get for not having a social life," he teased. "Maybe I should try that," he grinned slyly, eyeing Emily's reaction as he plunked his mug on the heavy, wooden table in front of us, his unruly strawberry blonde hair falling over his forehead.

"Don't listen to him." Emily swatted Colin's arm playfully. "You achieved your goal, and now, it's over, but you're heading back to Italy soon, aren't you?" she added sadly.

I nodded. "My old company has offered to put me up for a while, but I don't want to rely on them too much. I need to find a place to live before I start work. I'm hoping to leave by the end of the week."

"So soon?" Remus startled into reality. "Have you packed yet? That should take all of one box." He forced an unhappy grin, poking fun at what little I had. He was swatted for his efforts, and I was rewarded with a brighter smile.

The evening was spent in pleasant conversation and jovial camaraderie, but I knew that my friends weren't happy to see me go. At the end of the evening, after I bid Emily and Colin a teary "good-bye", Remus escorted me back to the dorm.

"They're nice people," he said as we strolled the concrete path.

I nodded in agreement, thinking of my life ahead and what I was leaving behind. I seemed to be stuck in this cycle and should have gotten used to it by now, but leaving was never easy.

"I'm going to miss you," he added forlornly. "You've been a good friend, someone I trust. That's hard to come by." He hung his head in thought, and then snorted in memory. "I had another friend, back in school. She was from Italy, too. I've often thought of her when we were together. You're a lot like her."

"Oh, thank you," I replied with a smirk. "Thinking of another woman while with me?"

"It wasn't like that. We were young, and she'd been through a lot. She was…special. We didn't know each other long, and I kind of messed things up before it even got started."

"What happened to her?" I asked knowing full well what the answer was.

"She was killed in the first war," he said sadly. "A real waste. She was quite remarkable, had a lot of potential." Shaking his head as if to shake away the memory, he smiled softly as we reached the entrance of the building. "I _am_ going to miss you," he said, running his fingers down my arm to my hand, grasping it lightly in his. "You've come to mean a great deal to me, and, I know, I know," he rolled his eyes with a sigh as I eyed him cautiously; "I understand your obligations, but I …" He looked down, scuffing his foot on the pavement.

I could tell what was coming next. He wanted one last night. A physical "good-bye", but I couldn't give it to him. Reaching my hand to cup his chin in my palm, I leaned to kiss him tenderly on the cheek, his soft grey eyes shimmering from under that fringe of sandy hair in the dim light of the dorm entranceway. Even though there would be nothing more, he would always have a special place in my heart. We had a special friendship that I hoped would endure over time and distance.

We said our "good nights" and "good-byes" and had one more quick kiss and hug before I turned to the brightly lit foyer. He stood on the outside watching as I disappeared up the stairs to my room. I didn't know what would become of him, but I was determined to keep tabs on him through Albus and through the continued study of Wolfsbane.

Opening the door to my chambers, a quick flick of my hand illuminated the wall sconce above the bed, and I startled at the sight of Pinky sitting on the edge of the pale blue covers. Her usual pink tipped ears sagged, and her shoulders were slumped forward, her hands folded limply on her lap, an absolute picture of despair and unhappiness. Upon entering, her head rose, and I could see that she had been crying. The back of her right hand wiped the tears away as she clutched an envelope in the left. Silently sliding off the bed and inching her way cautiously to me as I shut the door, she extended the missive, then backed away with a deep bow.

I was completely puzzled as I carefully tore the envelope open and read the contents. Even in the warmth of the mid-summer night, I started to shiver, goosebumps rising on my arms as I stared at the note and then at Pinky.

"Do you know what this is?" I quietly asked the small elf.

She shook her lowered head sadly.

"I can't believe it." The shivers became an uncontrollable tremble, and I was forced to sit on the padded chair by the table, staring at the small creature.

"Pinky, this letter is from Chairwizard Castwell and the Society."

She nodded, still remaining silent.

"And, you don't know what it is?" I asked again.

Again, she shook her head, no.

I gazed at the letter again and then looked at the little elf.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, "How would you like to live with me in Italy?" A huge grin broke over my face.

Pinky's head shot up. Her tennis ball eyes widened in disbelief and then her brow creased as if she thought she misunderstood. Standing in silence, she watched as I read the letter to her.

"Basically, what it says is that they've noticed how devoted and attached you've become to me, and as I have worked so diligently and could obviously use the help, they're giving you to me. Would you like that?" I asked still grinning.

The little elf fell to her knees sobbing into her hands and then crawled across the soft rug to hug the edge of my dress.

"Pinky will go with Mistress. You is MY Mistress," she wailed uncontrollably.

I placed my hand on the little elf's thin arm and stood her up. "Never kneel to me," I instructed. "You may be a house elf, but you're also my friend." I hugged her closely then continued, "I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, but I should be ready to leave by Friday. Will you be ready?"

"I is ready when you are," she beamed.

The meeting with Albus was brief. His instructions were simple: re-establish my contacts in the various European Ministries, re-establish contact with the Centaurs in Greece and let them know of the herd at Hogwarts, keep my eyes and ears open for supporters, and above all…find Voldemort.

_Not much on top of all of my other duties with the Ministry and with the Muggle world,_ I thought acerbically.

As we stood in the overgrown backyard of the safe house, preparing to Disapparate, Albus placed his hand on my arm and asked that I wait for a moment before leaving. With a twirl and a 'pop', he was gone, and at almost the same instant another 'pop' occurred, and standing before me was Severus, tall and imposing in his traditional frock coat and high collar. I twitched a smile; glad that we would have a moment together.

"Albus felt it prudent that we say our "good-byes" here," he said taking a deep breath, dark eyes piercing into mine.

"He's a wise man." I nodded in agreement.

"I will not be able to see you again for some time, and had hoped to have more than a few minutes, but I'm expected…elsewhere," he said coolly, his upper lip curling in disdain with his words as he took a step closer.

"I understand," I replied calmly, showing more courage than I felt. "I'm going to miss you."

"And, I you," he answered, the stony gaze in his eyes softening as I took a step closing the gap between us. Placing the palm of my hand on his chest, I could feel his heart race through the thick material.

"Do you have a place to stay yet?" he inquired quietly.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice to remain steady.

"Will you go back home to Tuscany?"

Again, I shook my head, no, the beat of my heart pulsing through my body and out through my hand, joining with his to set both hearts to the same beat. We stood in silence feeling the rhythm. Gaining strength, I looked up into the deep pools of darkness that I often found myself drowning in. To most, that analogy would be a feeling of lost hope, but to me, it had a completely different meaning. I saw a man whose soul was so profound and complex that I was in awe of his power, the man I would love forever.

"My home is where my heart is, here with you, whereever you are," I said in a surprisingly steady voice. "As long as we hold each other's hearts, I'm home."

He placed his hand over mine on his chest and pressed my palm into the cloth, staring down at me with a solemn expression. "You will always be in my heart, and I will protect you forever."

He bent his head, and his warm lips brushed mine in a tender kiss filled with unspoken emotion. My hand crept up his shoulder and around his neck, pulling him into a life-saving hug. I didn't know when we would see each other again, but we had made a vow back in Syria to never say "good-bye", so, when we pulled apart, our last words were simple, "Until we meet again."

I had more boxes than I thought as I looked around the packed room where I had spent the last four years. Having shrunk them down to a more manageable size, I wandered to the window to find Stark perched on the sill.

"Will you be okay getting back to Rome?" I asked with concern. The raven had insisted on coming with me when I told him that I would be returning to Italy.

_I'll be fine. Rome is big, but I'll find you_. Stark replied confidently as I stroked his head with my finger. _I'm going to leave now. I'll see you there, _he continued, turning and preparing to launch.

"Be careful," I called after him as his glossy wings spread, and he lifted into the warm summer air with ease.

Watching until he was a minute speck in the distance, I felt a small tug at me heart and then a small tug at the hem of my dress.

"Is Mistress ready?" Pinky asked, her face flushed with excitement, a toothy grin beaming.

"Not quite," I said, my brow creasing with uncertainty. "I have one more stop before we go."

Leaving Pinky alone in my room, I made my way across campus and through the familiar corridor that led to an auditorium-style lecture room in the Biochemistry building. There had been one elusive piece of my recent past needing attending, and I wasn't going to leave without addressing it.

Approaching the lecture hall, I could hear the ill-tempered voice belittle a poor summer student. Standing in the open doorway, casually leaning against the frame, I watched the pock-faced, foul-tempered instructor pace the classroom floor, impatiently re-explaining a concept. The class was deathly silent as he spun to demand an answer, but he stop in mid-sentence as he saw my lean figure quietly waiting in the doorway. My hair was still short but had been pulled back with a blue ribbon that matched my eyes and the light summer dress that I wore. I smiled impishly as his cheeks flushed.

"You're interrupting a class," he barked.

"So I see," I smirked. "You've been difficult to locate," I added, my light Italian accent catching the students' attention.

His eyes narrowed as he hissed, "Can this not wait?"

"I'm afraid not," I replied sombrely. "I leave today." Making a bold decision, I took a step into the classroom, crossing into his territory. In front of all of his students, I extended my hand to shake his. "I wanted to thank you for all you've done. Between you and Professor Cornwall, I have reached great success in less time than I had hoped for."

Hesitantly, he took my hand and shook it, a twitch of a smile belying his outer countenance. He nodded sharply without saying, "You're welcome", and as I was about to let go, an impulse of pure mischief struck me. Grasping his hand tightly, I pulled him close and planted an affectionate kiss on his lips, to the shock and surprise of both him and his students.

"Thank you, Adam," I whispered before backing away with a smirk, watching a flustered, ill-humoured Biochem teacher try to regain his faculties. As I headed toward the exit, I could hear the class twitter as Professor Kurtz bellowed, "Enough!"

It was time to go. Rome was waiting.


	24. Chapt 23 Pineto

**23 – Pineto**

The crimson and tangerine hue of the setting sun glowed over the tops of the seaside villas casting golden flecks on the azure waves of the Adriatic Sea, the inky black of coming night leeching up from the opposite horizon. Tourists were packing their belongings and heading back to their accommodations for the evening, the beaches littered with footprints and remnants of their day. The incoming tide would soon erase those marks leaving the sand looking new and untouched, ready for another visit. Summer was half over, and the influx of travelers would be returning to their lives elsewhere soon, leaving Pineto to face another, cooler season without them.

I sat on the terrace of the second floor apartment watching a black raven swoop and dive in the air currents above the sea. It was his favourite pastime, and as the crescent moon began to glow in the darkening sky, he glided to rest on the edge of the balustrade. If a bird could smile…

As an unexpected cool breeze funnelled down the terra cotta roof of the narrow structure, a shiver coursed through my body creating goosebumps on my arms. Crossing them to protect myself from the chill, a small pink-eared house elf appeared at my side presenting me with a colourful linen wrap. A tired smile was all I could afford as I accepted the handful of soft fabric and drew it around my shoulders.

I had been in Pineto for nearly four years, my experience of living in Rome having not been a pleasant one.

The Italian Ministry of Magic had carried through on their agreement to provide me with lodging when I returned to Rome from England and had set me up in a small but lovely, Ministry-funded apartment near the Tiber River. It was comfortable for several months while I searched for a suitable apartment of my own, but having lived in quiet solitude for so many years, I found the congestion and noise of such a bustling city unbearable. I needed to get away, to be out of such a metropolis. On a suggestion from Carmen, I visited the village of Pineto, in the region of Abruzzo, east of Lazio where Rome was. Her family had originated from this district, and I promptly fell in love with the sea. The little fishing village was an out-of-the-way tourist attraction for three months of the year, and the rest of the time, it was a quiet hamlet, a safe haven for my overworked mind. I could Apparate, undetected, directly to Rome from the narrow alley between the fish market and the grocer, the concern for keeping my quarters secret would always be a high priority.

This week had been particularly long. My duties as Head of Research involved overseeing three other researchers and about half a dozen assistants not all of who enjoyed being supervised by someone younger…or female. We were working on several projects as a team; plus I had a few ventures running on my own. John Radcliffe Hospital had given me a grant to continue the research into intracellular transmission systems and lymph node cancer, and I was making slow headway, coming up with another treatment for yet another side effect. It was working wonders for the patients. I was also making some minor adjustments on the Wolfsbane Potion, always searching for improvements, which led to my occasional visit to England to try the new modification on my favourite test subject. But my tiredness, at the moment, was caused by a recent side trip to Croatia to investigate an odd occurrence in a stand of woods on the mountainous west side. Witnesses had observed a very large snake, nearly fifteen feet long, slithering alongside a mountain trail, unusual for this area. Several people had gotten too close and had, somehow, been injured by it. Their conditions caused much curiosity in the Muggle medical society, as there seemed to be no physical effect. The patients appeared to be mentally damaged, in a near catatonic state. It was obvious that Voldemort was involved and was beginning to search for a human host as he grew stronger, but he had moved on prior to my arrival, heading back south, toward Albania. The Dark Forest in the Albanian interior seemed to be his comfort zone. It was infested with snakes and few animals lived there anymore. The newspapers had called the exodus of creatures a "migratory phenomena", and several scientists, both Muggle and Wizard, moved in to investigate. I had to keep a close eye. This could be his opportunity.

Covering a heavy-eyed yawn with my hand, I finished the last dredges of the iced tea from the tall glass on the table and rose with a stretch. Carrying the empty glass into the small kitchen and placing it on the polished tile counter, I toddled down the narrow hallway to the closet-sized bathroom to wash up. The apartment was small but suited my needs well, not that I was there very often anyway. My colleagues often teased about how much time I spent at work, to the point that one morning, about a year ago, I arrived at the lab to find a small cot stretched in the corner complete with a fuzzy blanket and pillow. I could hear the chuckles resonate behind me as I entered the chamber and saw the "gift", a derogatory "lab rat" comment filtered over the laughter as I shut the door to begin my day. The cot was banished from the room with an annoyed flick of my hand. Was I that involved in my work? I had to admit, yes.

Leaving the bathroom and padding naked down the hall to the dimly lit bedroom, I pulled a light, cotton nightdress over my head and crawled into bed. The sheets were cool against my skin. The early August day had been very hot, and I hadn't bothered to cast cooling spells on the apartment when I was gone. Usually Pinky kept the place to a comfortable temperature, but I had noticed that she enjoyed the heat, so when I was away, she didn't bother making the adjustments. I lay staring up at the white stucco ceiling, willing sleep to come. Slowly, my legs started to twitch. I hated this part of exhaustion. My mind was still reeling as my body tried to relax, resulting in spasms that would eventually work their way out. _"Nox" _darkened the room, and the soothing sound of the sea against the shore finally lulled me into that much needed slumber.

"Mistress Di Marco," the quiet voice called over a divider as I exited elevator five onto the second floor of the Ministry. "You received a letter from England this morning. It looks like another request from the university. I've put it on your desk."

Carmen had taken it upon herself when I returned to become my secretary, of sorts. She was reserved and efficient and had always stood up for me against the twittering hags who gossiped in the office. Her meek demeanour contradicted her inner strength of character. She was a strong woman and a good friend.

As I walked the white tile corridor to the labs, I passed her cubicle and thanked her.

"You look tired," she said tucking a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. "Was your trip successful?"

She knew that I travelled for the Ministry, but she didn't know all that I did.

I shook my head. "Not completely."

She followed me into the lab and handed me the letter from the desk. "What are you going to tell them this time?" she asked with a twist of a smile and a glint in her eye.

"I don't know," I sighed as I took the missive. "They are persistent."

The University of Oxford had written on several occasions asking if I would consider a fellowship role. This would mean a lecturing post during the school year, taking me away from my duties at the Ministry. Apparently several professors were keen to have me discuss my research in their classes, and as I had once been a student there myself, it would be a coup to get me back. The thought of returning to England was enticing, but _public speaking,_ I groaned inward. Although I had made a few speeches in my life, I didn't think that public speaking was my forte. I was fine with the one-on-one discussions but get anymore than three people together and nerves took over. I also had to consider my role here. My position in Europe was needed in order to keep track of Voldemort, but I also had an obligation to the Ministry. After all, had it not been for them, I would never have made it to Oxford to begin with. I stared at the letter in my hand, frowning.

Carmen grinned and nodded to me as the other researchers began to arrive. "They are persistent," she repeated as she left the about-to-be-sterile chamber.

A warm drizzle splattered against the boardwalk soaking the few die-hard vacationers taking a late afternoon stroll along the beach. It was nearly dinner, and the walk from the fish market would have been more pleasant if I had been able to cast a Water Repelling Charm. Unfortunately, as the drizzle grew into a shower, I felt that it would draw some unwanted attention if everyone else were running for cover while I remained dry.

Approaching the narrow villa that housed the three apartments where I lived, I waved to the old woman who resided in the main floor residence as she peeked out her curtained window. A wizened hand rose in a half wave before she ducked back inside. She must have been in her nineties and lived alone with two cats. Occasionally, I would see a younger man or woman visit, but they never stayed long, probably her grandchildren.

Climbing the tapered stairwell that rose to the second floor, I cast a Drying Spell and thanked Circe for my continued efforts at jogging. After a difficult day, this climb was murderous! Reaching the top landing, I sensed that the wards had been disturbed, although not terribly so. Pinky occasionally wandered to the beach to "feel the sand between her toes" she would say. She was always careful to use a Concealment Charm and avoided the tourists, although she had once proclaimed what funny creatures they were. Pushing the door open and taking a step in, Pinky trotted out of the kitchen to greet me, a small red and white chequered apron tied around her waist, and the smell of meat and garlic wafting from the small cooking area.

"What are you making?" I asked, puzzled. It was Thursday night; usually a light dinner was served. And, it was mid-August; the weather was still quite warm. A full, cooked dinner was usually reserved for the weekends or colder weather.

Pinky grinned widely. "I is making roast beef and gravy with garlic mashed potatoes and green beans almandine with strawberry trifle for dessert," she stated proudly, the tips of her ears glowing bright pink, her chin raised high.

I shook my head in utter astonishment. "Why?" I asked. "Did you get bored again?" She tended to get "creative" whenever she was bored.

"No," she beamed. "Master is asking for beef tonight."

"Yes, I grew tired of curried this and curried that. I had the desire for something definitely English," a baritone drawl purred from behind me.

"You're back!" I exclaimed spinning to meet a raised eyebrow and a "no kidding" expression as my arms flung around his neck smothering him in a tight hug. The hug was returned with equal force as my feet were lifted from the floor, and his nose buried itself in my neck. Pinky clapped her hands excitedly from the kitchen. She was a soft one for reunions and had grown accustomed to Severus' snarky ways.

"When did you get back?" I asked releasing my hold and taking a step backward.

"This afternoon," he replied taking a step toward me.

"And, how was your trip? Did you find what you where looking for?" I inquired, retreating another step.

"Not everything, but that shop in Darjeeling always has something of interest, and Master Trevedi was helpful," he answered taking another step forward, pinning me to the counter.

"Yes, it does, and he is," I agreed with a giggle as a majestic nose stroked its way up my jaw line to my ear as a long body pressed itself against mine.

"I've missed you," his husky whisper was like velvet to my ears.

My hands ran up his back and held him in a loving hug; my head resting on his chest, hearing his heart beat in a strong rhythm. Lifting my chin, I gently kissed the soft underside of his jaw and waited for his grip to loosen. After a moment, we drew apart and smiled affectionately at each another, then he took my hand and led me to the living room where we sat and caught up with one another while dinner was being prepared.

We didn't get to see each other often, just a few times a year and rarely alone. There was the Yule celebration at the Society Manor House each year, unfortunately never more than the public evening, the occasional New Year's Eve at the safe house, although last year he had to make an appearance at the Malfoy's which cut our evening terribly short, the odd symposium or Society gathering regardless of which country it was held in, but we always celebrated our anniversary on May first at the Cumberland safe house and last July, we even managed to find a spot in Spain to have a full, uninterrupted week alone. _That_ was wonderful! He had also visited the apartment a few times, and whenever he was here, the place took on a definite feeling of "home".

After a wonderful dinner, we retired to the terrace with a bottle of aged Sangiovese Chianti and watched the early evening stars twinkle above the sea, the clouds from the earlier rain having parted and a quick Drying Spell being used on the terrace furniture. The combination of a good dinner, excellent wine, and the ebb and flow of the tide made us both drowsy. And, as we sat wrapped in each other's arms, we drifted into a light sleep. I'm not certain how we managed it, but in a half stupor, we rose while the moon shone high and stumbled into the bedroom, stripping off our clothes and snuggling between the soft covers to nestle peacefully against each other.

I woke with a start, the bright sunlight beaming through the half open window. Grabbing the clock on the night table, I stared at the time. _Oh, my goodness! I'm late!_ I thought as I rolled over to see if my sudden movement had woken Severus. Creeping out of bed and heading to the bathroom for a quick shower, I grabbed a few clothes from the wardrobe so that I wouldn't disturb the sleeping man. Having the fastest shower I'd had in a long time, I dressed and went back to the bedroom to find that Severus had rolled onto his side, reaching at the empty spot that was beginning to grow cold. His eyes groggily pried open.

"I have to go to work," I said quietly as I kissed his forehead. "I should be able to get off early, though. Will you be here when I get back?"

"I have a few days before I'm expected anywhere," he groaned, lazily rolling onto his back.

"You rest. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. Enjoy it," I instructed as I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed for the door. I was rewarded with a smirk and a grunt as he stretched and pulled the sheets back up to his bare shoulders.

The weekend passed too quickly, and on Sunday night, Severus gathered his belongings in preparation of leaving the following morning. We had spent the past two days wandering the shore, investigating the small shops along the boardwalk, both using a Vagueness Charm to mute our appearances, so to anyone watching, we were merely unnoticed faces in the crowd.

School would be commencing soon, and I could see the tension rise in Severus' manner. As much as he enjoyed Potions, he felt frustrated and restricted. Potions was a required subject for all students of all levels, but not all students had the desire or aptitude to learn it. He had recounted the number of cauldrons that had been melted last year from "careless twits who couldn't follow simple instructions". I was astonished. He felt that a heavy hand was necessary for many reasons. First, it kept the students in line. They were less inclined to fool around in class if they feared him, but it also kept his image as the most dreaded teacher in the school, which held him in favour with those who still, secretly, supported the Dark Lord. Those supporters may be few in number, but they gathered occasionally in informal settings, such as dinner at the Malfoy's. Severus was a frequent guest, much to my repulsion.

Once back at school, he needed time to go through his stores and replenish what was lacking. A trip to Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley was required to order the necessary books for the upcoming throng of "dunderheads".

When I chuckled lightly at his ranting, I was quickly silenced by a glare that would probably have his first-years collapsing to tears. _Oh, he's good. _I pressed my lips together as I turned toward the living room suppressing a snicker.


	25. Chapt 24 In Demand

**24 – In Demand**

"If you would, please join me in welcoming an outstanding former student of mine, now working with the Medical Research division of the Italian government, Doctor Daniella Di Marco."

I rose from my seat, nervously running my hands over the dark green skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, and made my way to the podium. "Grazie, Professore Cornwall." I nodded in acknowledgement to my former advisor, accentuating my accent. "Buon pomeriggio, classe." I turned to calmly address the students who sat curiously wondering whether the entire lecture would be held in Italian. I smiled innocently watching their reaction. It was always an interesting icebreaker to see their concern turn to relief as I switched to English.

This would be my second lecture series at Oxford this year, finally relenting to the barrage of requests to be the guest speaker in a class or two…or six…as it were. I wouldn't agree to a fellowship role, but the Pharmacology and Biochemistry departments were happy to have me visit. The Italian Ministry encouraged my decision, feeling that it would be an excellent opportunity to further my standing with the British Ministry of Magic, and Albus thought it was an ideal excuse to have me return to England from time to time making our communication much easier and less conspicuous. No one would question the comings and goings of a guest lecturer at one of the most prestigious universities in Europe. Besides, it was easier for me to work on the new Wolfsbane improvements with Remus, and I was able to see more of Severus. Everyone was happy.

Dark clouds threatened snow as I sat in one of the oversized armchairs in front of a crackling fire at the Cumberland safe house. Severus and I always kept a small cache of clothing here for emergencies, and I had pulled on his heavy, black, woollen, high-collared jumper over my pink t-shirt and black jeans. It was warm, and his scent still lingered on it. Snuggling into the sweater and curling into the chair with a cup of hot cocoa, I thought back to my interesting week. Pinky and I had Portkeyed to England last Sunday afternoon from the Italian Ministry, arriving at the Radcliffe Camera in the midst of a deluge. From Oxford, I Apparated the two of us to the safe house. The dwelling was just as I had left it around Christmas when I was here for the last series and the Yule celebration. The chocolate mints I had stashed in one of the kitchen cupboards were a welcome treat after one particularly long day of lecturing. This time, I was scheduled for six homilies, freshman though senior classes, for both Professors Cornwall, and believe it or not, Kurtz. I snorted at the memory of Professor Kurtz introducing me to his class as "the most annoying student" he had ever had, explaining the necessity that he become one of my advisors for my doctorate because of my chosen topic. _Oh, such drama_, I rolled my eyes comically behind him as he addressed the class. The students struggled to restrain their giggles as I loudly quipped from the rear, with a mischievous grin, "I did it on purpose."

The week had passed quickly with the busyness of the schedule. I had dinner on Tuesday night with both professors, and Professor Kurtz amiably escorted me back to the campus guest quarters where I was supposed to be staying. We had developed a comfortable friendship over the past few years, and I was probably one of the few who actually enjoyed his company. He liked the fact that I wasn't put off with his gruff manner and that I took it in stride. We always tried to have at least one meal together whenever I visited.

Wednesday night found me at Colin and Emily's small apartment in London, sitting on the living room floor playing blocks with their two-year-old twin boys, Kevin and Nicholas. Both had Colin's unruly strawberry blonde hair but Emily's hazel eyes. They tugged at my heart, the memory of my own little boy flooding back as we played. Colin was a resident at St. Mary's in the paediatric ward, and Emily worked part-time at a research facility on the west side of the city. They were happy with their little family, and Emily coyly mentioned the possibility of another addition.

As for tonight, I was curled up in front of a warm fire, peacefully reading a recent copy of _Potions Monthly._ I was tired and intended to turn in early. The wine that Pinky had served with dinner was beginning to have the desired effect on my tense shoulders and neck. We would stay the weekend then head back to Rome early Monday morning. After all, the Portkey was set for the Ministry anyway. Why not just head directly to work? Pinky could go home on her own from there.

I couldn't tell whether it was early morning or still night when I woke with a start. The low fire burning in the bedroom grate took the bitterness from the damp air as I tossed the down comforter back and reached for my bathrobe. Drawing back the thick curtains that covered the window, I noticed that the dreary, grey sky cast everything in dismal shadows. It looked like it couldn't decide whether to rain or snow, so it did both at the same time. Hearing low voices rumble from the kitchen, I pulled the fluffy, white robe tightly around me, and slipped on my slippers. Padding down the hall to see who would visit at such an hour, I felt an anxious smile grow with the hope that Severus had arrived early. The sound must have been what played on my subconscious and woken me. As I entered the kitchen and viewed my guest sitting at the battered, old, wooden table being served tea and crumpets, my hopes were dashed.

"Good morning, Albus," I greeted warily, running my right hand through my dishevelled mass of light brown hair. "What brings you here so early?"

"Goodness, my dear, it's hardly early. It's nine o'clock," he stated with a twinkle in his faded blue eyes, nodding his thanks to an ingratiating elf that was replenishing his tea.

I inhaled deeply and forced a polite but weary smile. Taking a seat opposite my grandfather, I accepted the lemon tea from Pinky and waited for him to explain the reason for his impromptu visit.

"How was your week at the university?" he asked genially, taking a nibble of the crumpet.

"Interesting," I replied sipping the hot liquid and saying no more.

"Were you able to see Remus this time around?" he questioned innocently.

"Briefly on Wednesday afternoon. The new adjustments are going well, but I'd like to get in contact with the pack again. Maybe run another study. I'm surprised Belby hasn't said or done anything."

"He's all but ignored the study over the years, moved onto other things," Albus dismissed adding a touch of raspberry jam to the crumpet.

"Mmm," I thought, sitting in silence again, eyeing the old man across from me cautiously.

"And, Severus? I believe he will be arriving soon?" Albus' twinkle was back.

I twitched a smile and nodded slightly, staying silent.

"You're wondering why I'm here," he finally gave in, placing the round biscuit on the plate in front of him, and raising his eyes to meet mine.

"Yes," I said, never one to beat around the bush, returning his gaze steadily.

"In our last communiqué, you indicated that you were quite certain you knew where Voldemort was. Do you still believe that information?"

"When I last checked, he hadn't moved from the region that he has spent the past year in. He has managed to create a great deal interest in that area which has drawn the attention of both Muggle and Wizard researchers and curiosity seekers."

"Do you have a guess on what he is planning?" he asked merely looking for confirmation of his own thoughts.

"Yes. He's looking for an appropriate host, someone who is searching for power but willing to follow a master in the hope of obtaining that power. He has made some unwise choices so far and has killed to keep them silent."

"Mmm, I'd heard about the deaths. They are still unsolved by the Muggles. I believe they have even baffled the Wizard authorities." Albus steepled his forefingers at his lips, thinking.

"Yes, but we both know who is capable of this type of crime," I affirmed, keeping my countenance steady.

He nodded solemnly.

"We can't be the only three who know that Voldemort survived. The others can't be _that_ naive." I shook my head in disbelief.

"There are a few who believe that he is still out there biding his time. Most, however, wish to believe that he is gone for good, and then, of course, there are those who hope for his return but must remain silent."

"Fools," I whispered mostly to myself. "What do you want me to do?" I figured I'd get to the point.

Albus smiled knowingly. We had been through this many times before. He knew that I knew that he never just showed up to "chat". There was always a reason.

"Find him, Daniella. Find out who his target is. Young Potter will be receiving his letter this summer. We need to be ready," he said in earnest.

Three size-one pewter cauldrons sat over low flames in the tiny kitchen area of the apartment. The stench of the contents had sent Pinky running for cover with her hand over her nose and mouth. This was not one of my favourite potions and one that I preferred not to use unless I had to, but circumstances required it this time. Polyjuice was the only option.

I had selected a local fisherman from the docks in Pineto as my alter ego and managed to get close enough to gather some hair from of his heavy, woollen jacket. As I couldn't guarantee exactly whose hair I was using, it was hit and miss for the first few trials. After all, he could have borrowed the jacket or rubbed up against someone, or tossed it in the corner where the dog had been.

I held my breath and gulped down the first mouthful of the foul-tasting brew, quickly realizing that it wasn't right. I watched my face and body change, and my jaw dropped in horror as I saw what I was becoming. My short, light brown hair stayed short but turned a greasy auburn. My thin face rounded, several teeth blackened, and hair grew from a mole that appeared on my chin as I shrunk about six inches. The image was one of a short, overweight, aging, highly unattractive woman. If this was his wife, no wonder he spent so much time at the docks. I avoided the mirrors in the apartment as I waited until the effect wore off.

The subsequent trial was a bit different. The sample hair had a different texture and tint, and as I watched the change, I had to laugh, wondering who this person was: a daughter? Maybe, but I doubted it, the features weren't right. A diversion? _Well, if the other one was his wife…?_ I snickered to myself. This person was certainly interesting: tall, well built, with short, medium brown hair, and a long face. She was pretty enough but seemed a bit rough around the edges.

It was late in the evening, and after the changes already experienced; I was beginning to feel the strain on my system. Luckily, the third and final potion hit the mark. Wrapped only in a large towel, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror watching the transformation, smiling at the success as my body took on the appearance of the robust and burley fisherman. Suddenly, a thought struck me. I was a MAN! Oh, Gods! What if I had to pee? Curiously, I pulled the towel slightly away from my hairy body and took a quick glimpse down, swiftly replacing the covering and blushing a deep shade of crimson. A fit of giggles overtook me as I tried to slip my bathrobe over his shoulders. Attempting to stay covered, I gave up and moved to the bedroom, hoping that the clothes I had purchased would fit. If not, I would have to resort to spells to enlarge them. The giggles returned.

Once dressed, I moved into the kitchen to bottle the remains of the potion. His hands were large and clumsy, and I was hard set not to spill the precious brew. It took a month to prepare, but at least there was enough for several days of investigation. I would have to explore the possibilities in Albania: where the best place to meet the curious and the academics would be, when the best time to go would be, and how I could explain my absences to my supervisor. I sat in the quiet of the simply furnished living room, my mind formulating possibilities while my body slowly transformed back to its natural state. It was late, and I was tired, but the image of "the man" was branded in my mind, and I started to giggle again.

A dense fog descended upon the nearly abandoned side street on the grimy east side of Vlore. I stood in the shadows opposite a rundown tavern that made the Leaky Cauldron look like a five-star establishment. Severus had once described a section of Wizard London called Knockturn Alley, and I felt that this place would have fit in nicely. Interestingly enough, it was Muggle. Its dark, worn sign above the nearly black, wooden door could hardly be read, and the patrons were definitely the unsavoury sort. I had been to this place many times over the past four months, establishing a rapport with several of the locals and a small group of oddity seekers who were fascinated with the happenings in the Dark Forest. Of the taverns that I had explored since beginning my investigations last spring, I received the most intense feelings here. It seemed to have the best selection of candidates for Voldemort's transference and time was running out. If he hadn't chosen yet, he would soon. It made sense that he delayed, waiting for the right moment, for the most easily manipulated. He was being cautious, selective, but Albus was tempting his hand, offering an opportunity that he may not be able to refuse. Hogwarts was desperately seeking a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, a position that Tom Riddle had once applied for but had been refused. Would this be enough to entice the creature? Would his interest be peaked at the prospect of young Potter joining the school in the fall? A light mist began to dampen the dreary alley as I stood outside adjusting the rough-hewn shirt over my borrowed shoulders. Casting a Protective Shield and scanning the area for magical energy, I determined that the usual guests had arrived and had brought a couple of friends. It was time to find out precisely who was there.

In past visits, I had determined that this pub held the crux of those investigating the Dark Forest, who enjoyed gathering at the end of each week to discuss their "findings" or new theories. Casting _"Occlumens",_ I pushed the heavy door inward and stepped into the smoky room, the dank smell of stale beer and body odour assaulting my senses. Several heads lifted from their drinks and conversations as I motioned the barkeep for a lager. Lumbering to the long length of grime-encrusted counter, I placed my foot up on the rest and leaned onto my elbows accepting the drink. Running my finger along the rim and inconspicuously slipping a small sliver of strawberry into the amber liquid, I took a sip of the bitter ale. Holding the heavy glass in my left hand, keeping my projective hand free, I turned my back to the bar and observed tonight's crowd.

Up against the bar, to my right, were a few local boys, Muggles, already leaning heavily and unfocused. An empathic scan registered nothing but a drunken fog. In a far, dark corner sat two older men chatting up a middle-aged, well-endowed woman wearing far too much make-up and far too little clothing. Again, Muggles. To the left and in the back but not hidden from sight, sat a small group of younger men talking animatedly about their week. I recognized a couple, and one of the Muggles raised his glass, motioning for me to join them. Casually pushing myself from the bar, I sauntered over to the group and sat heavily in a vacant chair. Immediately, I felt that something was not right. My throat constricted, and my heart palpitated. It felt as though I had been poisoned…but that was impossible. Breathing deeply to rid myself of the uncomfortable constraints, I empathically scanned the group quickly: anxious, excited, nervous, tense. The emotions varied. I quietly sat listening to the conversation flow around me. Something had happened. There was odd behaviour in the animals again; almost "relief" as one of the men had put it. The others concurred, but no one could identify the cause for the change. I think I knew. A twitchy young wizard whom I had met a few times before nervously raised his glass to his lips, sloshing a bit over the side as his ridiculous, purple turban slid awkwardly over his forehead. It was slightly askew, a new acquisition that he was not accustomed to wearing. He reached up to carefully straighten it, and as he did, I took a chance, our eyes met, _"Legilimens"_:dark, foreboding, POWER. It was overwhelming, and I drew my breath slowly for control.

Late that night, or should I say, early morning, after the Polyjuice wore off, I headed home. Sitting on the terrace in the late July heat, I thought of the night's exploit and what I had learned. It was time to send a message. Morning couldn't wait. Stark had spent his summer between Severus and me and was presently roosting on the balustrade overlooking the boardwalk. I had to wake the sleeping bird, apologizing for the late hour, but this was urgent. Penning a short note, I instructed Stark to take it to Hogwarts, but not to Severus, to the Headmaster. The note was short.

_Quirinus Quirrell_

_D_


	26. Chapt 25 Doing What Needs To Be Done

**25 – Doing What Needs To Be Done**

The shot glass was flung violently across the room smashing satisfactorily into the vacant fireplace. Severus' lank, dark hair obscured his face as he breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling as he attempted to regain control. He was paler than usual, his thin lips pressed tight as his teeth silently ground together. I waited in the doorway for him to calm down.

It was a week before classes were to begin, and Albus had been to see both of us at the Cumberland safe house. He had left not more than a few moments ago. The special "package" had been securely hidden at the school, and Severus was one of several teachers who helped plan its safeguards. Yet Albus' next request would push Severus' patience to the limit, and I was surprised at his ability to maintain control as long as he had.

"Keep a close watch over young Potter. You owe him that."

I resented Albus' manipulation of the man I loved, but he was right. Someone had to keep an inconspicuous eye on the boy, and who better than someone he must learn to hate.

"_Reparo"_ and _"Accio"_ fixed the shattered glass and brought it to my waiting hand. Handing it back to Severus, I asked, "Want to do it again?"

He flipped the hair out of his scowling face and eyed my offering. He paused; silently gazing down at it, then abruptly grabbed the glass from my outstretched hand, flinging it again into the empty fireplace, the shattering sound echoing up the chimney.

"Feel better?" I really didn't have to ask.

His lip curled in disdain as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. "No," he hissed to the ceiling.

"Want to be left alone?"

He inhaled deeply and nodded slowly.

Turning toward the hallway to the kitchen, I felt it best to give him his space.

"Daniella," he called softly before I reached the archway. "How am I going to do this? I knew this day would come. I've planned for it, but now…how am I going to keep James Potter's son safe?"

The look of hatred on his face was so apparent.

"You cannot blame the deeds of the father on the son," was my simple response. "But, you cannot show preference either. Stay true to your character. He can always blame you for spying on him." I shrugged.

Severus snorted at the pun and looked over his shoulder at me. "You saw him in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago. I never asked about it."

"There's not much to say. I was following Quirrell, and we ended up at the Leaky Cauldron. That half giant, Hagrid, came in with the boy. He's small, like he's led an undernourished life. The patrons of the pub gathered around giving him a hero's welcome. He had no idea why. He was completely taken aback."

"He'll let the fame go to his head. An instant celebrity. From nothing to everything. He'll be as arrogant as his father was," Severus scoffed.

"You can't know that. Don't let your hatred for James cloud your judgement. Remember, he's Lily's son, too."

Severus softened almost imperceptibly, then hardened just as quickly. "You don't know what it was like!" He turned on me fiercely. "I had to watch my back at every turn! Him and Sirius…and Lupin. Pettigrew was just as bad, but a follower, the snivelling rodent. I was cut down at every opportunity and fought back. Only they got away with everything: the Golden Boys of Hogwarts, and I got _this_…" He pulled up his sleeve roughly, exposing the Dark Mark. "You once wondered whose side I was on. Dumbledore once questioned his trust in me. Both of you had every right to. I didn't know where to go. I played both sides for a long time…but, eventually, I realized that I could always count on you…and when Saxon was killed, I knew what needed to be done. I'll do what needs to be done now as well, and the boy will hate me for it, but he'll be alive."

I stood watching the man I love bare his allegiance to the cause. I knew that he would do whatever he had to, keeping his position a secret in the process. I pitied the Potter boy in some ways. He would never know that Severus was looking out for him, his guardian angel, of sorts, but I pitied Severus for the same reasons. He had a thankless job. He'd get the brunt of the boy's anger, frustration, and hatred, as well as the continued resentment from the rest of the students, and probably most of the staff. He had never been a pleasant man, and this charade intensified those negative characteristics. He would need my support, and I had promised, years ago, that I would always be there for him.

I handed him the shot glass again, and he smirked as he took it in his hand, tossing it once lightly into the air before hurling it into the fireplace again.

"Buon giorno, Carmen," I called cheerily as I entered the second floor corridor and saw my friend standing outside her cubicle. "Come stai?"

"Buono," she returned with a smile. "Looks like you had a successful trip," she indicated to my smile and the package that I was holding.

"Si," I grinned. "I've managed to put Oxford off until mid-November but have acquired two more professors to lecture for, and I have discovered a gorgeous, little plant with a curious disposition."

I pulled a small, potted plant from the brown, paper bag and held it up for her inspection. It was in a four-inch terracotta pot and looked like a black Aloe Vera. It had small spikes protruding at regular intervals along the sides of the puffy leaves, and it quivered slightly in my hand.

Carmen "ooo'd" as she reached to touch the plant with her finger but withdrew her hand sharply as it leaned forward threateningly, the tips of each protrusion snapping with miniature fanged mouths.

"Interesting, isn't it?" I chuckled at her reaction.

She eyed me with cautious curiosity. "What are you going to use it for?" she asked. "To keep unwanted suitors away?" She nodded faintly toward one of the junior assistants from the lab who was a bit too eager to help and always seemed to be at my elbow.

"Think it would work?" I asked in mock-hopefulness, glancing over my shoulder to spy him watching us covertly from the paperwork that he was doing.

Carmen just shook her head and waved me off. "I doubt it. He's smitten."

I rolled my eyes comically and sighed. "Actually, I'm told that the spikes produce a toxin that appear to suppress the central nervous system, similar to the Tridask Thoren, but more direct, less fiddly."

"Oh, that reminds me," Carmen brought her attention to more professional matters as she fished for a notepad on her orderly desktop. "The editor from _Ars__Alchemia_sent a message the other day. He heard about your work with the Red Cohosh and would like you to submit an article on the work you did during the summer. He thought it would make a good companion piece to the article you wrote last spring on the Black Cohosh, seeing as how they're similar plants that deal with different aspects of aging. How would you like me to reply?"

I nodded, looking at the note. "Tell them, "yes", and that I'll send the piece by the end of the week unless they have a specific deadline," I responded. I had written several articles for various trade magazines over the years: _Potions Monthly_ and _Herbology Today_ in Britain, _Ars_ _Alchemia_ in Germany, _Alchimie__Aujourd'hui_ in France, and _Il Giornale Dei Potions_ in Italy. Severus had even mentioned, one time, that the Herbology professor at Hogwarts used a few of my articles in her senior and advanced classes. When I pressed if he used my articles too, his upper lip curled, and all I got was an unresponsive grunt. After pouncing on him, finding that elusive ticklish spot, he confessed that his advanced class had done a comparative study between the Aconite napellus and Aconite vulperia in the Wolfsbane research…but only because it was relevant to what they were studying at the time, of course. _Of course._

"I'm going to be working late for the next few nights," I continued. "I need to get back on track here and see what the others have accomplished in my absence. Could you bring in my schedule? I need to fill in the upcoming lecture series and the _Ars Alchemia_ request, and I'm going to need to meet with the supervisor."

Carmen nodded and obediently went to retrieve my agenda from a filing cabinet near her desk as I headed for the lab. She always took possession of my work agenda when I was away. It was a large, dark brown, leather-bound book that was too bulky to carry around but perfect for the top of my desk. I carried a smaller, more personal version that was more portable. I found that between the two Ministries of Magic, lecturing at Oxford, studies and meetings at John Radcliffe, and the dozens of smaller tasks that needed to be done with my job_s_, I found it necessary to write things down, or I'd tend to forget something. I never wrote down my meetings with Severus or Albus. Those were things that I could never forget.

The following week was one of very late nights, arriving at the apartment in Pineto well after eleven o'clock. Pinky, the dear, would greet me at the door, take my bag, and lead me to the living room where I would collapse onto the sofa, kick off my shoes, and close my eyes for a few minutes while she prepared a light snack. She fussed about my not taking care of myself again, that I should eat more, rest more, and take some time off, hinting that Severus and I should go on some sort of vacation again. Personally, I think she was partial to Spain and wanted to return. I would smile weakly as I picked at the meal that she had prepared, trying to eat as much as I could in my increasing exhausted state. She was right. I needed to rest. It was time to lessen the load a bit, maybe head home at a decent hour. Hmm, maybe even leave work when everyone else did. Wouldn't _that_ surprise a few of the hags if I rode the lift up with them at the end of the day? It may force them to stop gossiping about me for a few moments. I snickered at the thought. Well, I could hope, couldn't I?

Stark's arrival at the beginning of November was a bit of a surprise. I hadn't seen him for a few weeks, since my last letter to Severus. I guessed that he stayed there for a while, enjoying the offerings of the school and grounds. For all I knew, he had a "girlfriend" somewhere. I wondered at the thought. As the sleek, black raven glided over the boardwalk toward the balustrade of my apartment, the setting sun glistened off his feathers. A gust of wind lifted him gracefully as he positioned himself to land on the rail. I had been enjoying the crisp air on the terrace and the quiet of the neighbourhood, silently meditating. I had gotten out of the habit of daily meditation when my schedule had been so busy but was now taking pleasure in the silent reflection.

"It's good to see you again, my friend," I greeted quietly as he landed.

_And you_, he replied, hopping to the small, tiled table that held a plate of cheese and crackers, and helping himself to a chunk of Havarti.

"Would you like a sip of wine with that?" I chuckled at the hungry creature.

He cocked his head sideways and shook it so hard that it reverberated from his head all the way to his tail feathers.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked still smiling.

_I tried some one time at the castle. I didn't like the taste or the feeling it gave me._ He shuddered again at the memory.

I chuckled again, lightly. "I take it that's for me." I motioned to the small black tube attached to Stark's leg.

He hopped closer and extended his left leg for me to untie the missive. Popping the cap off the end of the thin canister and sliding out the brittle parchment, I unrolled it and read the scratchy script with growing concern. It wasn't so much what the note said, but what it didn't. I was used to Severus' cryptic messages, but I had a definite sense that something was wrong, kind of like on Halloween night when I felt a surge of adrenaline that I couldn't explain, then a searing pain through my right knee. His note was simple.

_Made contact. _

_Coming soon?_

_S_

"Made contact", that meant that he was in contact with Quirrell, probably trying to bully him into thinking that he was still loyal to Voldemort. Much to our surprise, Quirrell had been involved in setting the safeguards for the "package", along with Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout. Albus' reasoning was simple and familiar: "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer". This also served to lure Voldemort into action in a place that Albus could control. I wondered, and worried, about Severus' role and wished I could be there with him.

The Rose and Crown Pub just off of High Street was moderately crowded for a Sunday evening. I had arrived in England on Saturday morning and reviewed my schedule for the upcoming two weeks. Not being able to see Severus due to school matters, I contacted a few contemporaries, making arrangements to meet a friend for dinner. The mid-November sun was just beginning to set as I entered the darkening pub, casting streaks of golden light through the spotless windows. A few heads turned as I began to make my way toward the bar. I had chosen to wear a pair of tailored, black trousers with a fitted, dark rose jumper. Although not "dressy", the outfit was attractive and flattering. Spying my dinner companion across the room, I smiled and made my way around the tables, feeling eyes follow in my wake. Reaching my destination, my companion rose and grasped my hand. I smiled brightly and leaned to give him the standard, European, two-cheek kiss that received a few stunned looks.

"It's good to see you again, Adam." My accent had thickened since my return to Italy making the words sound more sensual than intended, but it had a delightful effect on those listening in. I smirked to myself.

"Always a pleasure," Professor Kurtz replied softly as he held my seat, a gloating sneer played at the corner of his mouth as he noticed the looks of astonishment from some of the other patrons, his colleagues.

He sat opposite me, and the waitress quickly arrived to take our order. Leaning back in his chair, Professor Kurtz placed his hands on the table in front of him, spanning them irritably, glancing out the corner of his eye at the twittering sound that seemed to float around us. He frowned.

I leaned across and placed my right hand over his, smiling and sending him a feeling of calm. "Let the idle minds of the less brilliant chatter," I echoed a phrase from years ago.

His tension seemed to dissipate, and our drinks were served.

Dinner passed amiably, and we caught up with each other's research and work. It was funny to listen to him complain about his students. It was almost like listening to Severus. The comparison was so similar that I had to chuckle. We, also, went through my schedule for the upcoming weeks, and he briefly described the two new professors that I would be guest lecturing for. One had been on sabbatical for the past few years, and one was a transfer from another university. According to Adam, both seemed "knowledgeable" in their subject, which was high praise coming from him.

As the meal wound down, Professor Kurtz was actually smiling and had even managed to snigger a few times. It was nice to see, and as coffee was served with dessert, a hunched figure approached the table making Professor Kurtz look up, then stand.

"Professor Liberman," he greeted formally, extending his hand. "Interesting to see you here. May I introduce your guest lecturer for this week, Doctor Daniella Di Marco."

I tried very hard not to stare as I greeted the older man, but my eyes couldn't leave his face. His hair was more grey than any other colour, and he was clean-shaven. It looked as if he was in his late sixties, but it was hard to tell. I rose to shake his hand, my palms beginning to sweat, and I instinctively cast Occlumency.

"Good evening, Sir," I greeted steadily as his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

"Good evening, Doctor," he replied, his German accent emphasizing the "doctor". "It will be interesting to have you in my class this week."

_Indeed,_ I thought, silently casting _"Legilimens"._

"We're just finishing," Professor Kurtz added brusquely as he waved the waitress over for the bill. "Doctor Di Marco is lecturing in your Neurochemistry class, I believe? That's on Tuesday?"

"Yes," Professor Liberman smiled as he continued to watch me. Then, suddenly breaking his gaze, his smile dropped, and he abruptly extended his hand, shaking ours, and heading to the bar with a curt, "See you on Tuesday."

As we watched him leave, Adam uncharacteristically muttered, "Strange man. Be careful."

_If only you knew_, I thought.

"Mighty Merlin! You can't imagine this year's group of dunderheads! You wouldn't believe it!" Severus burst into the sitting room where I had been reading. "One twit added porcupine quills to a boiling base melting his cauldron to the point of being completely liquefied! Students had to scramble onto their chairs to avoid it! Bloody mess. Spent the following week in the hospital wing covered in boils. I don't think a Willowbark and Feverfew Potion will be strong enough to get rid of _that_ headache" He paused for a second to run his hand through his greasy hair as he stared into the fireplace. "And, there's one girl, always waving her hand, always with an answer. I'll be damned if she isn't right all the time, too. Bloody know-it-all. Why is she in the bloody class if she knows everything? Then, there's another upshot from the Weasley brood." He spun to face me. "Gods! What is it? Number five? Number six? I've lost count, but this one is dimmer than the others, and he's joined ranks with Potter who looks so much like his father, it makes me ill… and the disregard for the rules…well, he's already proven that numerous times. It's quite easy to watch him. He's always up to something. And everyone coddles him like he's a grand gift from Merlin himself, "The Boy Who Lived"," he huffed. "The Boy Who'll Be A Bloody Pain In The Arse" is more like it. He'll never learn for himself if people keep favouring him. Even managed to get on the Quidditch team. A first year! And, then there's Malfoy's spoiled spawn. If he were as intelligent as he is conceited, he'd be brilliant! If it weren't for the two brainless lumps that escort him everywhere, I think he'd have his arse kicked by now."

It was comical to see Severus rant. His hands waved in the air as he paced the worn carpet on the sitting room floor. His sallow face was actually beginning to show colour, and his dark eyes flashed. He never talked this much about anything let alone his classes, but this was too funny, and I was hard set not to laugh outright, so I pressed my lips together or took a sip of tea and let him vent. When he finally flopped into the large armchair and sank into its comforting depths, he rested his head wearily in his hand and sat in silence for a moment.

"So, it's been a rough one has it?" I quietly snickered as he glared at me balefully. "Care for a change of subject?" I asked not being able to keep it quiet any longer. "Guess who I met this week?"

His brow furrowed, and he grew concerned.

"Master Lindstrom," I announced.

Severus shot upright in his chair silently demanding to hear more.

"I've been lecturing in one of his classes this week. Neurochemistry. He's known as Professor Liberman now. We had a talk one afternoon, and he explained what had happened. When he showed interest in the Dark Lord's philosophies, Death Eaters had tried to forcibly recruit him, threatening his family. They even tried to get him to turn me over. He played along until he could find a way to get his family out of the country safely and secure me with the Ministry. When he disappeared, he went to the Americas, and then after the war, came to England and started teaching in another Muggle university. He only joined Oxford this year. He's still afraid, so he keeps himself relatively obscure. I think he's gotten used to that life and doesn't want to change back."

"Do you believe him?" Severus' concern was evident.

"If I was concerned, I would have drawn it to your or Albus' attention sooner. As it is, he's just a frightened, old man. I've cast _Legilimens_ on him and done empathic scans. His fear is genuine."

Severus relaxed some and leaned back into the chair again. There was silence between us until he quietly told me to "be careful", then he continued, "Quirrell is a dodgy one. He let a troll into the castle on Halloween night, and then dramatically announced it to the entire student body. While the students were in a panic and the staff went looking for the troll, he headed for the trap door on the third floor. I cut him off, demanding that we work together. He refused and ran, and the damn dog nearly took my leg off. He hasn't figured out how to get past the beast yet."

"Is that what happened?" I asked in surprise. "Which leg? Your right?

His brow furrowed as he nodded.

I smiled. "I think we're bonded tighter than I thought. I felt the adrenaline rush and the pain when your leg got hurt, only I couldn't figure out what had happened."

"You're kidding." His left brow lifted curiously. "There's something else as well," Severus continued. "I don't think that the Dark Lord is with Quirrell all of the time. He seems to be growing stronger. Possibly venturing out on his own."

"You think he's leaving Quirrell? That would mean that he's becoming corporeal somehow. But, how?"

"Unicorn blood, I think. Hogwarts has a small herd of unicorns in the forest, and Hagrid said that he found one injured last month."

"Unicorn blood. He's living a half life through the unicorn blood," I thought out loud.

Severus nodded slightly, "It would seem so. He's definitely trying to get Flamel's stone, and although Quirrell jinxed Potter's broomstick in a Quidditch match last week, it appears that the stone is more of his focus rather than Potter, at the moment."

"Maybe he doesn't see Potter as a threat yet, or maybe Voldemort wants to do the boy in himself, which means that he needs a body of his own to do it. That could buy us time," I considered.

"But, with the stone, the Dark Lord could live indefinitely. We'll need to come up with a plan. I just hope Potter can keep himself out of it. He's a nosy one," Severus advised.

"Looks like we may not be seeing much of each other this year," I said sadly.

He shook his head. "I think my hands will be full."

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle, thinking of possible scenarios and preparing our minds for what lay ahead. When the fire began to fade, Severus rose and offered me his hand, leading me down the dark hall to our cozy bedroom. Washing up and getting into our nightclothes, we cuddled under the warm, down-filled comforter, wrapped in the love and comfort of each other's arms.

_Now, your hands are full_, I mused as I drifted off to sleep.


	27. Chapt 26 Deep In The Shadows

**26 – Deep In The Shadows**

The March rain lashed the stone terrace, and the white caps of the typically serene sea crashed against the sandy shore. It had been raining for nearly a week, and even Stark refused to venture outside, having found a comfortable nesting spot atop my wardrobe.

I hadn't been back to England since November, not to the Yule celebration at the Society, and not to have Christmas with Emily, Colin, the twins and their new little girl. I buried myself in Ministry work, heading north only once to visit the Camptas, bringing them a dose of a Black Cohosh Potion that I had been working on. They were delighted to see me, but I didn't stay long as they seemed to tire much quicker than they used to. Muggles had a much more difficult time with aging than Wizards. Their bodies seemed to degrade quicker, and I knew that the potion would help. After Signore Campta's heart attack last summer, both finally retired passing the bakery over to their nephew and his family. They kept the apartment attached to the shop, and Signore Campta kept his nose in the business that had been his life.

Large drops struck the terrace window as I puttered around my small apartment trying to coax what few plants I had to bud. It was Ostara, a time for new life, new hope, and new beginnings. Yet, I felt that I was doing the same old things over and over, bidding my time for when my "skills" would be needed again. I felt powerless and desperately wanted to be back in Britain to help Albus and Severus keep watch on things. After having spent the past ten years following leads, tracking, and finally, locating Voldemort, the job had been passed on to others. I frowned as I stared out the glass door to the patio, examining the struggling ivy that crept up the lattice. Pushing the door open, I stepped into the driving rain, instantly feeling the cleansing power of water pour over my body. Tipping my head back, I stretched my arms out to the sides calling to the Guardians and opening myself to their powers.

"Forgive me," I cried into the wind. "I have not forgotten you. I have let events dictate my time. I am open to you. Please hear me."

The rain soaked through my robe, and thunder rumbled loudly. The wind whipped down the roof and gusted in small whirlwinds, plastering the saturated fabric to my legs. I began to shiver.

"Gracious Guardians hear my cry,

Fire and water fill the sky,

I am here for you to fill,

Be with me, I'll do your will."

I stood, arms outstretched, absorbing the elements, and feeling the powers as they raged around me. A crack of white lightening split the dismal sky, its tip reaching to where I stood. As it touched the balustrade, it divided into a dozen small bolts that danced along the iron rail, blue sparks filling the air and whirling around me. Fire, the element of determination, creation, and destruction. Water, the element of emotions, balance, and stability. Together on Ostara, the season of new beginnings. The power was intense.

"I…AM…YOURS!" I cried into the torrent.

The elements lashed my body, encircling me, lifting me into the air. I could feel the strength, and I invited it in. When I was set back down, the rain slowed to a drizzle and eventually stopped, the wind died, and the storm was over. I drew a deep breath feeling regenerated, newly focused. Reaching out, I gently touched the struggling ivy and watched as it instantly flourished, growing up the lattice with healthy, green foliage. Yes, my mind was clear. I knew what needed to be done.

My supervisor wasn't pleased but didn't argue as I laid out the plans for the next few months. I had everything organized and neatly arranged. The assistant director would be in charge in my absence, as usual, only this time; I didn't know when I would return. Carmen looked apprehensive as I handed her my leather-bound agenda for safekeeping and asked that I keep in touch.

Retrieving a newspaper Portkey from the Department of International Transportation, I met Pinky in the lobby of the Ministry and left Italy again. Stark had already been dispatched with a message and would join us at a later date.

Like it or not, I was coming.

"How did you know?" Albus asked, nibbling a biscuit that he had dunked into his tea.

The dark kitchen of the safe house glowed with the light from the candle chandelier.

"I just did," I replied softly, sitting opposite him at the wooden table. "Something is going on. I can feel it. It's like a static itching my skin."

"Do you have a plan?" he questioned, studying me intently.

"I know what I want to do, but need to know what _you_ think should be done."

He inhaled slowly and leaned back in the solid chair. "There have always been dangers in the forest, you have faced some in the past, but now an evil lurks in its shadows. I have spoken with the Centaurs, and they share my concern. Even the werewolves are cautious." He shook his head in thought. "This will be the closest you have ever come to such Dark magic. What I ask means to endanger yourself more than you ever have." His pale blue gaze pierced into my dark blue. "I need you in the forest," he stated flatly.

I nodded slightly in understanding. "As I thought," I replied. "I keep seeing images. I felt that's where I should be. Pinky has been instructed to stay here, but I fear that she'll fret with so much idle time."

"She's welcome to stay at Hogwarts, if she wishes," Albus invited, as Pinky refilled his cup. Her eyes bulged in worry as she looked back and forth between the two of us.

"It will be your decision, Pinky," I directed my attention to the little elf. "I don't know when I'll be back. The Headmaster has invited you to stay with him for the time being."

"Mistress will be needin' Pinky when she returns." Pinky's ear started to glow, her hands twisted in her tiny apron.

"I probably will, but I don't know when that will be. Of course, you are welcome to stay, but should you wish, you can go to the castle."

"Master is at the castle?" Pinky looked up at me, hopefully.

"Yes."

"Can Pinky be with Master?"

"I don't know. That would depend on him." I looked over the table to gage Albus' reaction. An amused smile twitched on his weathered face.

"You are welcome to come with me and should your Master agree, you could serve him at the castle. If he feels that it would not be wise, you could either stay with me or return here. I will cast a charm on the house to register when your Mistress returns," Albus instructed kindly.

Pinky stood before me, moist eyes glistening in the candlelight. She reached out and touched the edge of my knee. "Mistress will be careful?" she squeaked, her chin quivering.

"Always." I smiled as I drew my little friend into a comforting hug.

"Headmaster will let Pinky know if Mistress is needin' me?" she directed at Albus.

He nodded. "Of course."

As Pinky released me, she backed away and stood beside Albus, her head held high, in an attempt to maintain control.

_My brave little elf_, I thought with pride.

I could hear Severus' voice hiss through the trees, though I couldn't hear the words. He was with someone, someone afraid, whimpering. It was late afternoon, and most of the school had been at the Quidditch match. They had since returned to their Common Rooms, celebrating Gryffindor's win. Severus was fuming. I snuck closer, hidden by the thick underbrush.

"Consider where your loyalties lie," Severus threatened as Quirrell cowered, then scrambled out of the trees, heading for the safety of the castle. Turning to watch the fleeing man, Severus scrubbed his face with his hands before casting a cursory glance around the clearing and following suit.

I sat in the silence, planting the images in my mind, and feeling the vibrations of the forest, suddenly becoming alert as the ground beneath me began to pound. Staying crouched, I watched as a majestic Palomino Centaur strode into the clearing. He stood still and proud, listening, and then looked pointedly in my direction.

"I know you are here. The forest is not safe for students. Show yourself," he demanded calmly.

I waited for a moment, then rose, and stepped into the clearing. I held myself equally proud, then stepped back with my left foot, my right remaining in front, and bowed low. Then standing straight and holding his gaze, I spoke.

"I am honoured to be in the presence of a great Centaur. I share your concern regarding the evil that has infiltrated this forest. I am duty bound to attempt to stop it. It cannot continue to injure and kill the innocent unicorn."

I kept my voice and countenance steady and strong, my determination clear and true.

The Centaur lowered and raised his head in acknowledgement. "You understand the protocol of addressing the Centaur," he recognized, his blond hair reflecting in the setting sun.

"I have experience with a herd in Greece," I explained solemnly.

"What knowledge do you have of this evil?" he asked glancing up at the darkening sky.

"It is written in the planets," I said confidently following his gaze. "Mars has been bright."

He looked down at me with a curious look. "Yes, it has."

We smiled slightly at each other, an understanding beginning to form.

"I'm Firenze," he introduced.

"I'm Daniella." I smiled back.

"The forest is not safe, Daniella," he reiterated.

"I know. That's why I'm here."

"Do you intend to stay?" he questioned.

"I've been here for several days already," I answered to a surprised expression. "This evil must be stopped. The innocents must be protected."

Firenze nodded as he began to retreat into the woods. "I will keep my eyes open," he assured. "Be safe, Human."

The safe house was cold and dark when I arrived. I had been living rough in the forest for over two weeks, keeping company with some of the werewolves I had dealt with during the Wolfsbane trials, and occasionally running into Firenze or his friend Ronan. Voldemort's essence had made itself known only once, and the Centaurs frightened it off before it could do harm. But, I had a feeling that it would be back. It seemed to be getting weak. I should have stayed, but I was no longer alert, in need of food and a bed, at least for one night. Slipping into the kitchen, I kicked off my muddy shoes and began to peel off the dirt-encrusted clothes. A light "pop" sounded on the opposite side of the room startling me, and I instantly cast a Protective Spell.

Pinky jumped when she saw my defensive posture and squealed, "It's Pinky, Mistress. Headmaster said you were back."

I lowered my guard, my body shaking from fatigue, and continued to silently remove the clothes.

Pinky dashed to the washroom to run a hot bath, then scurried to the bedroom to cast a warm fire in the grate, turn down the bed, and lay out a cozy nightdress. By the time she reached the kitchen again, I had lowered myself into the steaming tub, an audible sigh unconsciously being emitted. This felt _so_ good. I cast _"Caldo" _twice before finally emerging from the warmth, towelling off, and dressing in the nightdress that Pinky had chosen. Padding my way to the kitchen, I followed my nose to the delightful smell of roast chicken and vegetables. I hadn't had a decent meal in ages. Wolfing down the food in less time than I should have taken, I finally spoke, thanking Pinky for taking such good care of me. She beamed at the praise and efficiently cleared the dirty dishes as I stumbled down the narrow hall with my hand on a full belly. Tumbling into the soft bed, I rolled onto my side and was asleep within seconds.

"So, you've done it?" Severus' hiss was unmistakable.

"I..I..I…th..thin..think, I kn..know how..how…" Quirrell stuttered under Severus' hardened gaze.

"Well, you'd better be certain if this is going to work," Severus advised, moving threateningly to face Quirrell almost nose to nose. "The stone is vital."

A flock of birds suddenly took flight behind be as I sat listening to the conversation. Severus spun in my direction and spied me crouched at the base of a large oak.

"_Stupify!"_ he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I was able to cast a Protective Shield just as the spell hit, but flew backward with the impact, leaving me sprawled on the forest floor. I could faintly hear the conversation as it ended.

"Stupid students," Severus spat. "Serves him right for going where he doesn't belong."

"You..you…st…stun…stunned..a…a…stu..student?" Quirrell sputtered in frightened surprise.

"And, your point is…?" Severus questioned, his lip curled in disdain.

With that, Quirrell bolted back to the castle with Severus following a few moments later. He never came to check on me, and didn't send an empathic message to see if I was injured.

Stark showed up later that night as I curled up against a large pine in the forest, a note and small package clutched in his claws.

_Happy Anniversary._

_Are you all right?_

_S_

I unwrapped the package to find my favourite pastry carefully wrapped and still a little warm. I smiled as I devoured the treat, sharing some with Stark who waited patiently for my reply. My response was short but clear. It let him know that I had been hurt but not bad enough to squash my sense of humour.

_Happy Anniversary._

_Ouch!_

_D_

The tiny sliver of crescent moon shimmered through the treetops, the odd wisp of light cloud occasionally obscuring the glow. The stars were bright; illuminating the clearing a bit more, but it was still very dark. There was a presence in the forest tonight. I could feel it. It was frightening, foreboding, heavy. I unconsciously scratched my shoulder and around my neck, feeling the static. Making my way into the small opening, I raised my hands to the sky, the branches voluntarily parting to give me a better view.

"Goddess Moon, Mother of all, I thank you and the Guardian of the North, Mother Earth, for protecting me and always keeping me safe. There is a presence in the forest that is determined to cause harm. Please keep a watch over the innocents tonight."

The yellow-white aura that was emitted from the sliver glowed brilliantly in response, and I turned to face each direction in succession.

"Gracious Guardian of the East, guardian of wind, lend me your strength tonight; help keep my mind clear.

Gracious Guardian of the South, guardian of fire, lend me your strength tonight; help keep my spirit focused.

Gracious Guardian of the West, guardian of water, lend me your strength tonight; help keep me calm.

Gracious Guardian of the North, Mother Earth, lend me your strength tonight; help keep my feet firmly planted on you."

Opening to their powers, I felt reassured that I would not be alone. Then, turning to the depths of the forest, I followed the eerie sensation that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

It was nearly one in the morning when I heard a dog bark in the distance, voices echoing through the trees as branches snapped and crashed, indicating the late night arrival of …who? Who would be here at this hour?

Ducking behind a tree, I recognized the deep, unrefined rumble of the Hogwarts Keeper of Grounds and Keys as he spoke to Ronan. He had brought students into the forest to serve a detention. _Who's bright idea was that?_ I thought cynically. Why would Albus allow such a thing, unless, he was away from the school at the moment, which would explain the feeling I had of impending doom.

The half-giant was separating the children and giving them instructions. My heart was in my throat. The Potter boy was one of them. This was not good.

_Firenze,_ I sent empathically, desperately hoping that he would get the message and respond. _I need you at the clearing. _

Turning to retrace my path, I saw a black figure glide across the forest floor apparently unaware of the children's arrival. It was in search of something else, something that had eluded him, with my help, once already that evening. I raced to the meeting spot.

"You have the power to call me?" Firenze questioned with annoyed curiosity.

"I apologize," I said as I bowed to the Centaur. "You said that you would keep your eyes open, and you have helped protect the innocents. The essence is back. I have been following it for most of the night. It attacked another unicorn, but I managed to divert its attention. Now, Harry Potter is in the forest. He doesn't know the dangers that are lurking and needs to be kept alive. Will you help?"

"Centaurs do not _help_ humans," Firenze stated firmly. "We do not get involved."

"I understand, but you do help protect the innocents. Are children not innocents?" Indeed, I did know Centaur ideals.

Firenze acknowledged my observation and slowly nodded. "Do you know where the essence is?"

I shook my head, "No, but I can find it."

"You follow the essence. I'll look after the boy," he instructed as he rode off toward the dog's bark.

I stood alone, listening to the forest, asking for guidance, and allowing the wind to direct me. It pushed me deeper into the woods, to where the moonlight couldn't reach. I had to hold my faith that the Guardians would protect me.

A scream echoed through the trees as I raced behind the cloaked figure that whispered over the dead leaves. It didn't seem to register my presence, and as I reached another opening, I saw a frightening sight. The form had stopped over the glistening body of a fallen unicorn, lowering its mouth to drink the silver blood from a gash on its neck. A young, dark-haired boy stood several feet away, frozen in his spot until the figure looked up, unicorn blood dripping from its chin. Terrified, the boy backed away, griping his forehead in obvious pain, and tripping backwards over a fallen log. I reached out, casting an Impedimenta Charm on the figure as it moved threateningly forward. The figure slowed but didn't stop. My power over non-corporeal beings was not a strong skill. As the being continued to move, Firenze arrived, leaping over the log, and landing defensively between the essence and the boy, chasing the essence off. I raced in pursuit of it while Firenze dealt with the frightened child. The cloaked figure had new strength and quickly eluded me in the dark recesses of the woods, climbing to the treetops, making its way back to the castle. I stood watching it disappear into the night. Gasping for breath, my legs weak from running, I collapsed onto my knees. I had failed. I couldn't stop it.

_Severus_, I sent. _Please hear me. It's rejuvenated. It's heading back to the castle!_


	28. Chapt 27 Peace

**27 - Peace**

Severus and I leisurely walked hand in hand along the wide, wooden boardwalk. The tourist season was in full swing, and stark, white bodies of Muggle sun seekers stretched out on colourful blankets on the sand absorbing the warm rays. Severus lifted a disgusted eyebrow at the scantly clad women in string bikinis and men in minuscule Speedo bathing suits.

"They might as well be naked," he huffed as we passed a particularly overweight man whose bathing suit was almost completely obscured by his overhanging belly. "It's indecent."

I had to agree. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Continuing our stroll, we stopped at the local fish market and the small grocer, picking up a few items for dinner and then headed home. It was good to be back. The past few months had been brutal.

After Voldemort's essence left the forest, rejuvenated from its kill, it headed back to the castle to plot its next move. It wanted the stone and used Quirrell well to decipher the remaining spells that protected it in the deep recesses of the school.

The Potter boy, living up to Severus' expectations of being nosy and Gryffindor's reputation for courage and strong spirit, had battled his way to the hiding spot, through the maze of enchantments and safeguards, to thwart Voldemort's plan. Discovering the man with two faces in front of the Mirror of Erised, the boy found that his unwavering faith in the "good" led him to break the final spell. The stone magically appeared in his pants pocket. Angered and driven by the Dark force coursing within, Quirrell attacked. The boy fought back and, much to his surprise, found that his mere touch destroyed the host, drying out the shell of the borrowed body, sending the essence fleeing into a non-corporeal realm once again. Racing from the mysterious dungeon, it escaped to an unknown destination.

I had waited for over a week in the forest for any new developments, finally receiving a message from Albus, via Stark, that Voldemort had been temporarily defeated and that "my services were no longer required". I snorted and shook my head at the easy dismissal, but cynically thought, _How typical._

Returning to the safe house to rest for a few days and gather my belongings, I hoped to hear more, but received only a short note from Severus. He had to continue his duties as Head of Slytherin, leading his classes into exams, as if his role in this whole unsavoury business had not existed. He would meet me later in the summer in Pineto. I didn't get to see either him or Albus before I left. Disappointed, Italy and my position with the Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions looked very appealing at the moment and with the box of "goodies" collected from the Forbidden Forest and Pinky at my side, I quietly returned to my "other" life. I knew that it wasn't over, that Voldemort would find another way, but for now, I planned to enjoy the quiet reprieve.

"_Accio_ _lemon_," Severus cast lazily as he worked at the narrow kitchen counter. Thinly slicing the lemon and placing it on top of the salmon, he sprinkled the fish with a dash of pepper and wrapped it in foil. I tore apart a head of romaine lettuce, added some slivered almonds and orange slices, and tossed it lightly. The juice from the orange would create its own mild vinaigrette. As Severus lit the outdoor grill and placed the fish on it, I joined him with a bottle of white Merlot and two glasses. Settling in a couple of wicker chairs on the terrace, we waited in comfortable silence for our meal to cook as the golden summer sun began its decline. This past year had taken a toll on the both of us, and the peaceful sound of the sea against the shore eased our frayed nerves.

With the exception of worrying about me, Pinky appeared to have enjoyed her time at Hogwarts, serving both Albus and Severus, and occasionally joining the other house elves in various tasks around the school. I think she liked being with the children, but she was definitely happy to be home, having run from room to room squealing in delight when we arrived.

Stark also appeared glad to be back, having had the odd run-in with the Whomping Willow. He became quite adept at dodging the flailing branches, and it quickly became a dangerous game, which occasionally got him injured.

Both creatures had been invaluable to me during my time in the forest: Pinky arriving to take care of me whenever I returned to the safe house, and Stark being my lifeline to the outside world, bringing messages and occasionally food from the castle. Without these two friends, I'm not certain if I could have carried through. In my opinion, they are not _in service_ of me. We look after each other.

Severus shifted and magically flipped the foiled fish, then stood at the balustrade to stare at the calm, blue sea. This year had been his most difficult yet. Having to deal with James and Lily Potter's son was bad enough, but finally coming face to face with the dangers that we knew lay head was something else. The creases on his brow and around his mouth had deepened, and he appeared to have aged ten years in this past one. He had gone to Albus again about the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, adamant that the students needed to be prepared for what lay ahead, but Albus had rejected him once more. We couldn't understand his desire to hire inept and what seemed to be "disposable" teachers, his newest choice being utterly ridiculous. I snorted at the thought of the pompous fraud, Gilderoy Lockhart having to face anything more dangerous than an overly ardent fan. My heart went out to Severus, though, and I rose to stand behind my love, wrapping my arms around his waist, giving him a gentle hug. He folded his arms across mine, and from the side, I could see a ghost of a smile cross his thin lips. He gave me a squeeze in response but continued to gaze out over the water. He had been in Pineto for a week already, and had another to go before needing to return to his duties.

"It's so hot, Severus. Why don't you take that long-sleeve shirt off and feel the sun on your skin?" I coaxed as I stretched out in a comfortable lounge on the sandstone patio of the rented villa.

Before Severus' return to England, he wanted to revisit the village in Spain where we had spent part of last summer. It was close enough to the ocean to hear the waves but far enough away to be at the base of the mountains, and there was a wonderful little herbalist just off the main street. Nothing in our lives was ever done for one reason. There was always an ulterior motive. Severus needed some supplies, and this is where they were. I didn't care. I loved the area, and wanted to spend as much time with him as I could, not knowing when we would see each other again.

Pinky was delighted. I don't know what it was about this little hamlet, but she was thrilled at the prospect of returning. Luckily, we were able to rent the same place that we had last year and were comfortable in the knowledge that it was well warded and protected from prying eyes. It was a fair sized studio villa, just one main room containing a kitchenette, a closet-sized bathroom, and a large open area. It was decorated in pale wood and off-white paint, very light and airy. Beautifully etched, double glass doors opened wide toward the back, hedged-in patio. Perfectly private. No neighbours on either side. Just what we needed.

I rolled over onto my stomach and removed the top of my bathing suit feeling the sun kiss my skin.

"You'll burn," Severus chided from under the large, pastel green patio umbrella.

I raised my head slightly and squinted in the sun. "I seem to recall a time when you looked quite good in a t-shirt." I smiled but got an indifferent snort in return. "Come on. It's just us," I encouraged.

"No," he stated firmly, flipping the page of his book and continuing to read.

"No?" I questioned mischievously as I rose leaving my top on the lounge and sidling barefoot across the hot patio to where he sat. I caressed the top of the book with the tips of my fingers. "Are you saying "no" to me?" I asked seductively, leaning forward trying to distract him.

He was hard set not to look up, and I could see the struggle as his head remained lowered, but his eyes rose to meet my chest. "Yes, I'm saying "no"," he replied, his voice low and smooth, almost sultry.

"Mmm, shame." I leaned further forward to tickle his earlobe with my tongue.

With a sudden movement, the book clattered to the stone patio, and the chair flipped backward as he quickly rose, sweeping his right arm around my waist and pulling me close, his lips ardently pressing onto mine. My arms looped around his neck as he grabbed hold of my buttocks lifting me as my legs wrapped around his waist. Smiling at the turn of events, I was carried into the villa and unceremoniously tossed onto the canopy bed that dominated the main room. Giggling and scooting out of the bottom half at my bathing suit, I moved to the centre of the bed, propping myself up on the huge pillows, while he practically ripped his shirt off and whipped his pants down.

"In a hurry?" I chuckled as he virtually dove onto the bed, tripping over a foot that caught in the waistband of his pants.

I was answered with a series of fervent kisses that traced a path up the centre of my body, between my breasts to my collarbone, then up my neck to the soft spot beneath my ear. His right arm braced his weight over me while his left hand rose to cup a soft mound of flesh, skilfully rolling the tip between his fingers. Moaning in response, I arched against him, feeling him hard against my hip. His touch was just the right pressure, not too gentle, not too rough, and I squirmed to feel more. Continuing his assault, his lips shifted to gently suckle the rapidly rising bud, his tongue equally skilled at this as it was at casting insults and criticisms. A roaming hand spanned down my stomach, finding a moist inner thigh invitingly open, and he began to explore the wet folds. Groaning with pleasure but gently pushing his hand away, I playfully flipped him onto his back. He invited the reversal, pulling me on top while my lips nipped the underside of his chin, following a familiar route that I knew would please. My chest slid lightly over the sparse hair on his torso that had thickened as he grew older, and I nuzzled it gently feeling his heart race. Kissing a path lower across his lean abdomen, I met the thin, coarse line that drew from his navel to his groin. He flexed against me, inviting the touch as my hands gently spanned the taunt muscles of his thighs and buttocks. His shaft twitched as I teasingly avoided the area. With a low growl, he slid his hands under my arms, lifting me to meet his face, our chests pressed against each other, hearts beating as one. As I sat up, straddling his hips, we inhaled deeply as we joined to begin the rhythm of this well-known dance.

Thank goodness for Silencing Charms and protective wards for by the time we were finished, every inch of the bed, parts of the floor, and about half of the surrounding furniture had participated in the activity.

Sweaty and out of breath, smiling and sated, we snuggled against each other under the rumpled sheet on top of the bed. My head was tucked under his left arm listening to a now-slowing heartbeat. His right arm was tucked under his head, fine black hair spread across the white pillowcase. His eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful. I chuckled lightly and a curious right eye opened, the brow was raised as I was regarded strangely.

"Well, at least you finally took off your shirt," I snickered as the warm breeze blew through the open doors cooling our overheated skin. I got a snort and an eye roll as I was pulled into a loving embrace.


	29. Chapt 28 Keeping Busy

**28 – Keeping Busy**

A number three, silver cauldron simmered over a low flame; its contents continuing to bubble gently while wisps of silver vapour spiralled upward. The white tresses that had been gathered from the fallen unicorn served to provide the perfect and rare ingredient to a potion used to sustain the life of premature babies. I was hesitant to use anything from that particular creature, fearing that it would be tainted with Dark magic, but after exhaustive tests, the mane and tail hairs as well as the hoof clippings were unaffected. I was unwilling to touch the blood, the life source of the animal, even though it was an exceptionally valuable commodity at any Apothecary, quite certain that it would be contaminated, but the rest of the collected items from the forest would keep the team and me in research for some time.

"It's looking good," the assistant director mentioned casually as he passed the steaming cauldron. "The team has completed the tests on the Magpie mushrooms. Interesting results." He handed me a beige folder not unlike those used in Muggle offices.

I leaned back in my chair, placing my elbows on the arms, and invited him to sit. Flipping through the notes, the edges of my lips turned slightly upward as the outcome had been what I had expected.

"Now, all we have to do is find a place to apply it." I smiled as I gently tossed the folder onto the wooden desktop. The mushrooms had a hallucinogenic effect, but also worked at reversing various spells that injured the mind. I instantly thought of those wounded during the war…but where to begin?

The assistant smiled and nodded. He had been annoyed with my return for it bumped him back into a subordinate position. I had been gone for three months with no contact with the department, and he had been completely in charge, enjoying the power of the position. I felt for him. He was ambitious and had the quality that it took to run the job successfully, that's why I had no qualms about leaving the department in his hands. That's also why I knew that if ever came the time for me to leave the Ministry or my post; I would recommend him as my replacement…but not today.

"Any thoughts?" I asked always trying to appease his injured male ego.

"A few," he answered appreciating the attempt.

As September began, my thoughts drifted to Severus and the new school year that lay ahead. I wondered what kind of mischief the students would get into this year to test his already low reserve of patience. As the weeks passed, I ventured to send Stark with a brief note.

_How is it so far?_

_D_

It was the beginning of October before the raven returned with a message even shorter than mine.

_Infuriating._

_S_

I sent a small package of very strong Willowbark and Feverfew tincture through the Ministry post to the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm sure he could have made his own, but it was the thought that counted.

_To be used when needed._

_D_

I kept myself busy over the following weeks joining Carmen on the occasional excursion to Wizard Rome, visiting the Camptas once (I found that I had a craving for cinnamon buns after receiving Severus' note), continuing the research for John Radcliffe Hospital (I was due to update the staff before the end of the year), and running a variety of tests, with the team, on the moss, mushrooms, and remaining items from the forest. The process was slow, but so far had been successful. I had a good team. However, the hags were beginning to refer to me as the "lab rat" again, and Carmen's calm disposition was seriously tested.

"Why don't you ever say anything to stop them?" she asked in frustration one afternoon as the whispers and giggles filtered around us when I emerged from the sterile chamber.

"What do you suggest I say?" I replied steadily. "Please stop, that's not nice. Please stop, you're hurting my feelings. Please stop, you sound like the old biddies that you are?" I smiled sensitively at Carmen's growing irritation and gently placed my hand on her arm. "Not meaning to sound conceited, but I once told a Muggle friend of mine, "Let the idle minds of the less brilliant chatter". Regardless of what I say, they're not going to stop, and if I try to stop it, it will only give them more to talk about, so I try to ignore the situation, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't affect me."

Carmen merely shook her head and pressed her lips together, absently pushing some papers around her desk. After a moment, she handed me a couple of letters with my large leather agenda, the page open to next month.

"You received a letter from the university this morning and a fancy envelop from the Society. Looks like an invitation. Open them up, and we'll fill them in," she said following my advice.

She was right. It looked like I would be spending some time in England in December. The Society invitation was not only for the Yule celebration, but a seminar was scheduled for the day before. It sounded interesting. A new Mistress had been inducted late last summer and had helped her Master with a project on how Muggle viruses affect Wizards and new methods to treat them. Both were scheduled to present the work. It was unusual for both Master and apprentice to share credit for something, but there were rumours about their relationship. I had to admit, though, they worked well together, and she deserved the induction. Another speaker was a renowned, American botanist who intended to bring some plant samples from the American southwest. I had only heard of some of these plants and was very curious as to what they would look like and what he had to say.

The letter from the university was actually from Adam Kurtz, informing me that the faculty was having a Christmas party before everyone went their separate ways for the holiday. As it happened, it was the afternoon before the Yule celebration. He wondered if I would be interested in attending. I wouldn't call it an invitation, but smiled that such an ill-tempered, socially awkward man would even consider letting me know. I slotted all three events into my book and hoped that I would be able to stay the full week and get my business with the hospital out of the way at the same time. Plus, I had missed going to England last year and was looking forward to visiting a number of friends this time around.

The florescent lighting over the wide corridor leading to the faculty lounge in the Biochem building reflected off the harsh white walls. The smell of bleach and cleaning fluid permeated my nostrils as my heels clicked against the worn tile floor. I had arrived in England early that morning and had immediately gone to the hospital. A meeting had been scheduled with the Oncology staff before rounds were to be made. After the meeting, I visited the lab and some of the other researchers who were working on similar projects. We compared information and experiences and were able to shed a little light on some snags that had appeared. I had decided to accept Professor Kurtz' invitation and use one of the university guest quarters which would save me Apparating from Cumberland. Pinky had accompanied me to England but chose to visit her "friends" at the Society and help prepare for the symposium and Yule celebration. She was very excited.

Approaching the open faculty door, I poked my head in to see who was there. It wasn't a formal affair; most had come directly from invigilating or correcting exams. A few favoured students served as waiters or waitresses for the event, passing around trays of small snacks and glasses of wine. I entered the room feeling a bit uneasy, as I didn't see Professor Kurtz anywhere. Moving forward, I joined a few professors that I recognized but didn't know very well. Finally, spying my elusive and unsociable friend hovering by the refreshment table, I excused myself from the self-absorbed bores and moved to intercept my former advisor.

"And, here I thought I'd been stood up," I greeted cheerily as Adam stuffed a cracker spread with pate into his mouth.

"That's what I was thinking," he replied grumpily, bits of crumbs falling from his dry lips onto the front of his dark green, argyle sweater.

"Didn't you get my letter?" I asked, not completely trusting the Muggle post.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean much. You could have changed your mind," he stated unpleasantly.

"Have I ever retracted anything I've said to you?" I asked a bit puzzled with his callous demeanour.

He inhaled deeply, and slowly shook his head "no".

"Then, why would I now?" I questioned. "I'm pleased that you invited me."

His eyes brightened slightly as he poured a cup of punch from a large glass bowl. "If I recall, you don't drink," he said passing it to me.

I smiled, accepting the glass and taking a sip of the fruity liquid. I was receiving a strange sensation from him that I couldn't quite put my finger on, more than his usual distant and tense air. I tried to cast _Legilimens,_ but he kept avoiding my eyes. The hair on the back of my neck began to prickle as he placed his hand on my lower back, steering me away from the table to a sit at a couple of plastic chairs by the far wall. Passing a few of his colleagues who turned to ogle, Adam's uneasiness deepened, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. I remembered that little quirk as a sign of insecurity.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked my friend as we sat watching the group.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," he said practically under his breath. "I…wanted…" he broke off, shook his head, and looked away, his eyes nervously scanning the gathering.

That strange feeling returned, only this time it felt like someone was watching us. I followed Adam's gaze but saw nothing unusual.

"Adam." I placed my hand on his knee. "Do you want to get out of here? Maybe go for dinner?"

He nodded, then sighed and shook his head. I gazed perplexingly at him, and we sat for a few moments in awkward silence listening to the intellectual and pseudo-intellectual conversations flow around us. Finally, I made a move, standing in front of him and holding out my hand for him to take. He looked up, uncertain of what to do, but my unwavering stance told him to grab hold. He reached out and grasped my fingers, and I pulled him to his feet.

"Something is going on, and whatever it is, you need to deal with it," I stated firmly as I began to lead him through the milling crowd. As we wove through his colleagues, the uncomfortable feeling of hurt, despair, and anger became stronger. Stopping by the exit, we turned toward the room.

"What are you looking for?" Professor Kurtz grumbled.

"Not what, who," I clarified turning my attention to the guests. "It's hard to explain," I offered to a puzzled expression.

Continuing a path along the wall, I practically dragged a reluctant but irritably curious professor behind me until…

"Hello." I reached my hand out in greeting. "I'm Daniella."

The young, blonde woman startled, her large green eyes flitting from me to Professor Kurtz and back, uncertain of what to say.

"Have you two met?" I continued, pointing between the young woman and the professor, trying to initiate a conversation.

"Miss Pratt is my teaching assistant," Adam grunted under his breath. "She's in her final year."

"Teaching assistant…since when do you take TAs?" I asked, surprised but pleased. "That's wonderful. No wonder I haven't been scheduled into your classes this year."

"Are you a TA, too?" Miss Pratt asked slightly venomously.

Adam snorted. "Hardly." Miss Pratt's eyes softened as he spoke. "Dr. Di Marco is a former student and is presently a top medical researcher with the Italian government. She holds a grant from John Radcliffe Hospital to continue studies on intracellular transmission systems and their effect on certain cancer cells. She is also a guest lecturer here at Oxford. Surely, she's spoken in one of your classes?"

"_You're_ Dr. Di Marco?" The young woman's eyes widened. "You look…different." Suddenly, I was struck with a devastating sense of hopelessness.

_I thought so. _I smiled a knowing smile as the professor shifted uncomfortably beside me. Lifting two glasses of wine from a passing tray, I handed them to the couple.

"I believe you two have things to discuss," I smirked as Adam began to flush.

"But, I invited you here," he protested desperately, a look of fear crossing his face.

"A month ago, but I believe things have changed since then. May I make a suggestion?" Both stared at me with uncomfortable doubt. "This may be a conflict of interest, but it's not impossible." Miss Pratt's brow furrowed. "It's just a matter of being…discreet, or," I pointed at an obviously embarrassed professor, "you can wait until her session is finished, or you can get a new TA and openly pursue this."

"Pursue what?" Adam nearly blasted in denial. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he huffed.

"Goodness, Adam. I can feel it from here, the tension between the two of you. I thought, at first, that it was projected toward me, but as we got closer to Miss Pratt it was so obvious." I rolled my eyes at him, smiling.

Professor Kurtz' neck and cheeks were now completely red, his teeth clenched together, and Miss Pratt had turned scarlet from the cleavage to her forehead.

I smiled kindly at the pair. "Go find a quiet corner somewhere and talk. Try to move beyond the classroom." I placed my hand on Adam's arm. "It's time I left." Leaning forward to place a quick kiss on the pock-marked cheek, I whispered, "I saw a sprig of mistletoe hanging above Dr. Redwood's doorframe. Use it wisely." With a wink, I pulled away, extending my hand to Miss Pratt. "It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope you have a wonderful holiday." Directing my attention to Adam, I bid him a Happy Christmas, smiled sweetly, and left the two to their own devices.

The Society's manor house was decorated in its usual holiday splendour. Red and green garland and holly berries were strung from the windows and around the doors. Frosted orbs lit the snow-dusted path from the Apparition Garden to the sweeping steps. The sound of festive music filtered into the night.

Severus hadn't gone to the symposium the previous night but was supposed to meet me tonight. I was looking forward to seeing him and had dressed for the occasion, wearing a robe in a colour that he favoured and very little of anything else. We hadn't been in contact much, our letters being brief and far between, but I got the sense that life at the castle was difficult. The "feeling" of the notes said more than their words.

Greeting Chairwizard Castwell inside the grand entranceway, I slid the cloak from my shoulders and handed it to Pinky who was grinning and waiting with her arms outstretched. As I leaned to hand her the wrap, I whispered, "Is he here yet?" She shook her head, "no"; bat-like ear flopping from side to side.

Moving across the polished, marble floor to the gathering inside the reception hall, I made my rounds greeting colleagues that I hadn't seen in months, some in years. Many had brought their spouses this year, and I was introduced to several. Master Whitherling's new bride was a delight. They had married last spring after a long, apparently tremulous courtship. This was his second marriage and her first.

As the evening wore on, I danced with a few wizards who took pity on my solitude, but my heart wasn't into it. It was getting late, and Severus hadn't made an appearance. By midnight, I was finding it difficult to hide my disappointment. Finally, bidding the others a "good night and Merry Yule", I retrieved my cloak from Pinky and told her that I was going to the safe house…should Severus arrive after I left. Pinky nodded in understanding.

The safe house was dark when I arrived, but a quick _"Lumos"_ lit the sconces in the kitchen and hallway. I didn't bother lighting the fireplace in the sitting room but had a fire blazing in the bedroom before long. Silently stripping out of the deep blue velvet robe, a flick of my wrist hung it neatly in the wardrobe. Standing naked before the fire, I let the warmth touch my skin, then pulling a soft nightdress over my head; I sadly crawled beneath the chill covers of the double bed. Shivering from both the cold and the disappointment, I hugged the spare pillow tightly, crestfallen tears beginning to flow. Something must have kept him away.

I slept fitfully, tossing and turning, listening to every creak and groan in the old house, hoping that he would eventually show up. He never did.

After spending a full day secluded in the safe house, feeling let down, I ventured into Muggle London to do some shopping. Emily was hosting dinner on Christmas Eve and had invited me to join them. I was reluctant at first, not wanting to intrude on a family gathering, but she and Colin were insistent. I was looking forward to seeing the children again, and I hadn't seen the baby yet, who was now just over a year old. Stopping at a busy toy store to pick up a few presents, I then moved onto other shops to find something appropriate for my friends. Heading to the safe house in the late afternoon, I wrapped the parcels in bright paper and ribbons hoping that it would cheer me up.

Arriving at Emily and Colin's cheerfully decorated townhouse in a comfortable neighbourhood on the outskirts of London, I paused on the front stoop to gaze through the large picture window at the silent activity inside. A full, well-decorated tree dominated the opening, obscuring most of the view, but I could see several children beyond, playing on the floor, and poking at the presents. Emily emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen with a beautiful, little, chestnut-haired girl on her hip and gently shooed the children out from under the tree. Colin appeared by her side and took the little girl into his arms, tossing her lightly into the air, eliciting a giggle. The twins raced for their turn, arms outstretched, while Emily gave Colin a "look what you've started" expression. There was another couple present with their children, and the group laughed, sharing the holiday cheer. I already felt like an intruder.

As the winter chill deepened, I gathered my nerve, and rang the bell. Two pint-sized Colins pulled the door open, pushing and shoving to be the first to greet the new guest. Their father followed closely behind.

"Daniella!" Colin exclaimed. "I'm so glad you could make it." He ushered me into the comfortable home. "Emily," he called. "Daniella's here!"

Emily dashed around the corner with a girlish squeal, her arms opened wide to draw me into a friendly hug. "I've missed you!" she cried out, giving me a rib-cracking squeeze, instantly making me feel welcome.

As we entered the living room, I was introduced to Colin's brother, his wife, and their two children. The twins lugged my bag of presents into the room from the front door while the baby crawled around the floor, curiously poking at the colourful wrappings. Putting the bag on the low table in front of the sofa, I asked if it would be all right to give the children their presents now. The little ones gathered around, clapping their hands in delighted anticipation, and Emily nodded in agreement. It may keep them quiet for a while whilst we caught up with each other. I had not anticipated the other children, so I had to get a little creative with the contents of the bag.

Reaching in, I inconspicuously removed the bright bows from the twins' packages and withdrew the boxes, handing them to the boys. Placing my hands back into the bag, I clasped the bows and Transfigured them into two more small boxes containing appropriate presents for Colin's young niece and nephew. There was a squeal of delight as the presents were opened, and the older children dashed off with their new toys.

The baby watched in wonder and disappointment as the other children left. Scooping her onto my lap, I let her inquisitively look into the bag and helped her pull out the last package. Chubby, little hands grasped the colourful ribbon that magically unfastened with the slightest pull. Pushing the paper aside and lifting the lid, the baby's eyes widened as she saw the fluffy, stuffed bunny nestled in the wrappings. In awe, she delicately lifted the toy from the paper, studying it carefully, and then promptly stuffed the left ear into her mouth, eliciting a laugh from the adults. Adrianne stayed on my lap for a good part of the night. It felt good to have a child in my arms again. I had given up so much to work for the "cause".

Christmas morning found me puttering around an empty, dreary safe house. I had decorated a little bit, but my heart was no longer into it. Pinky had made bacon and eggs with toast and lemon tea for breakfast, and I poked at the food, not really very hungry. Severus still hadn't sent word, and I was getting very concerned. By lunchtime, I had given up on waiting and decided to go to the one place that had always given me solace when I was in England. Apparating to the Radcliffe Camera, I walked east on High Street until I reached my destination – the Botanical Gardens. Entering the warm dome, I inhaled deeply, absorbing the life forces of the plants. Wandering from chamber to chamber, I crouched to place my hand in the moist soil of the exotic plant section, feeling Mother Earth under my touch. The visitor's bench was welcoming, and I sat with my eyes closed letting the power of the plants flow through my weary body. Slowly, I began to relax.

"It's peaceful here, isn't it," a smooth, deep voice broke the silence.

Opening one eye, I cast a glance up at the intruder, and my lips twitched into a crooked smile. "Yes," I said softly.

"Mind if I join you?" the voice asked.

I shifted on the bench to make room for the newcomer.

"Kind of depressing to be here all by yourself on Christmas day. No place else to go?"

I shook my head "no".

"Why so sad?"

I sighed and opened my eyes, unshed tears shimmering beneath the lashes. I couldn't speak and was slowly folded into the warmth of familiar arms and held until I steadied.

"How did you know I was here?" I whispered into the shoulder of a heavy, woollen overcoat.

"I didn't. I like it here, too. I saw you place your hand on the earth and thought there was something wrong. What is it?"

I shook my head slowly against the broad chest. "It's complicated."

We sat in silence for a long while, his rough hand stroking the back of my head as it rested on his shoulder, soothing troubled nerves. If felt good to have this reassuring touch.

"Not going to fall asleep on me, are you?" The low chuckle made me smile.

Lifting my head and staring into the worn face of an old friend, I cupped his cheek with my hand and thanked him for the comfort. He smiled in return and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of my nose. Rising and pulling me to my feet beside him, he looped my hand through the crook of his arm, and we wandered the gardens together for the remainder of the afternoon.

By late afternoon, I was feeling much better and accepted his invitation to dinner. The Red Lion was still open for business, and we found a quiet table in the back of the nearly deserted pub.

"So, you going to tell me what the problem is?" he pressed over dessert.

"Not much to say. I was expecting something to happen and was disappointed when it didn't. I do get depressed every now and then, you know," I quipped with a crooked smile.

"Don't we all." There was an understanding pause. "I've missed you," he added uncertainly.

"It's been a while," I agreed.

"Too long." His eyes were soft and weary.

I nodded sadly. "It doesn't look like you've been taking your potion."

"Belby cut me off last summer," Remus replied.

"He what?" I expelled a bit too loudly. "How could he? We made a deal!"

Remus shrugged. "Not much I can do unless I want to make headlines in _The Daily Prophet_. _"Werewolf Demands Wolfsbane – Threatens Creator"._ " He sat back in the wooden chair, exasperated.

I could feel my temper rising. "Belby agreed. Did you tell Headmaster Dumbledore? Can't he do something?"

"I've mentioned it, and he's had the Potions Master at the school make it for me on occasion, but…"

"But, what? Remus, I created that because of you. What does it matter who makes it as long as you get it?" I beseeched.

"The Potions Master there is an old schoolmate, from a rival house. We never got along. You know who he is. You've met before at the Wolfsbane unveiling. Snape."

I knew who he was all right, but I didn't think Remus would stop taking the potion, because Severus was the one making it. "Is your contempt for him so great that you would sacrifice your health? Remus, that's unreasonable."

"I don't hate him. I just don't trust him. He's a nasty, spiteful man who can hold a grudge longer than anyone I've ever known," Remus began "I wouldn't put it past him to make a "mistake"."

As upset as I was with Severus, my anger rose as the suggestion that he would purposefully try to harm Remus based on a long-time grudge. I obviously didn't know all of the circumstances.

"Look, I've got a room here on campus. Come on up, and we'll finish this. I want to hear why you feel this way, and I want to see if there's anything I can do to help," I encouraged. Although, I hadn't used the guest quarters since the faculty party, they were still available, and the campus was practically empty. No one would know.

Remus and I talked well into the night. He explained the history of animosity between the Marauders and Severus, and the whole sordid story from his sixth-year; of Sirius and James, the night of the full moon at the Whomping Willow, and luring Severus into danger. It all spilled out, and, to me, it was obvious that both he and Severus had been pawns in a cruel plot. I remembered that incident. For weeks following, there had been a rift amongst the Marauder's, and Severus skulked around the school angry and afraid, unwilling to speak of what had happened. According to Remus, James had saved Severus' life at the last moment, thus creating a life debt that should have ended when James died. I finally understood why Severus felt so conflicted toward the Potter boy. It wasn't just that Saxon would have been in the same year, but the debt to James had not been fulfilled. In his mind, he transferred it to the son. That, in addition to feeling guilty about passing along the overheard part of the prophecy, weighed on him greatly. I sensed another factor, but I wasn't willing to tread there just yet.

As night gave way to the grey of early dawn, I managed to convince Remus to accept Severus' unenthusiastic help, explaining that, as Potions Masters, we took an oath to preserve the integrity of the craft. As unpleasant as Severus was, he was too proud of his work to intentionally taint it. Remus finally relented and agreed to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore.

Remus fell asleep on the short sofa as the sun began to crack through the dull edges of morning, and I flopped onto the top of the hard bed in the tiny bedroom. Sleep came quickly but only lasted a few hours, the bells of St. Mary the Virgin Chapel ringing in morning service. We groggily rose, sheepishly straightening our rumpled clothes and bundling up against the cold winter wind that whipped through the campus. Bidding each other "good-bye" at the Camera, I hugged my friend closely. He would always have a special place in my heart. Wishing him "good luck" and encouraging him to speak with the Headmaster, I kissed his cheek and Disapparated to the frosty backyard of the safe house.

The gravel path crunched under my feet as I made my way to the back door, and as I pushed my way in, Pinky raced into the kitchen, a look of worry turning to relief on her little face.

"Mistress is alright. Mistress is alright," she cried, clinging to my knees, bulbous eyes brimming with tears.

I smiled at the little elf. "Of course, I am. What made you think I wasn't?"

"Mistress didn't come home. Mistress has been gone a long time. Pinky was worried," she answered as she released her grip.

"As was I," a baritone voice angrily hissed from the kitchen doorway.


	30. Chapt 29 Conflict

**29 - Conflict**

Severus stood in the doorway between the kitchen and hall, arms folded across his black-clad chest, a scowl deeply etched on his face. His pale cheeks were slightly flushed, and it looked as if he had just arrived.

"Pinky came to the castle this morning, frantic, because you left early yesterday and had not yet returned. Luckily, she was unseen, but her concern was so great that she sought me out. Care to explain? Where have you been?" His demanding tone was one he would use with an errant student.

"Excuse me?" I blinked, surprised at his harsh attitude. "You didn't have the courtesy to send a note, to tell me that your plans had changed, and that you would not be meeting me? I haven't heard from you in weeks and was looking forward to seeing you. How dare you question _my_ whereabouts when you don't explain your own!"

Pinky cautiously backed away from the scene that was about to play out. Neither of us noticed as our jaws set for the battle.

"You know I have duties, that I cannot simply disappear. My presence was required," he snarled as he took a threatening step into the kitchen.

"I understand your duties, but it wouldn't have been impossible to send some sort of message to let me know not to expect you," I growled back.

"This place is unplottable. I couldn't send an owl," was his defence.

"And, you couldn't send a message to the Society making your excuses?" I questioned curtly.

"Would that be within my "character"?" he sneered. "Oh yes, please excuse me, Sirs, but something has come up, and my plans had changed. I won't be able to attend the festivities tonight." The sarcasm dripped from his lips as he glared at me.

"There's always a way," I retorted, not letting his demeanour affect me but understanding his point.

We stood for a few moments glowering at each other.

"So, what was so important that kept you away?" I asked harshly.

"Where were you?" he countered, obsidian eyes narrowing.

"Oxford, the Botanical Gardens. I ran into an old friend, and we went to dinner," I answered defiantly, chin slightly raised.

"Long dinner, or was it _dessert_ that took so long?" His jealousy was evident.

"We hadn't seen each other in a long time and talked late into the night. As we obviously couldn't return here and I still had quarters at Oxford, we went there," I explained defensively.

I could see his jaw flex as he ground his teeth. His upper lip began to curl as he asked, "Who was it?"

I inhaled deeply, preparing for the explosion, but held myself firmly, "Remus Lupin."

His back shot straight like I had struck him, and his eyes narrowed as he measured through gritted teeth, "You spent the night with Lupin?"

"We talked until dawn, then he fell asleep on the sofa, and I collapsed onto the bed. Nothing happened, except that I convinced him to start taking the Wolfsbane again. Belby cut him off."

Severus stared at me like a bull eyeing a red cloak. If steam could come out of his ears, I'm sure it would have. He spun on his heel, strode through the hall and into the study to gather his cloak to leave. I stepped into the doorway, blocking his path.

"What was so important that you stood me up and couldn't let me know?" I asked again, this time demanding an answer.

Severus tried to angrily bypass me, but I wouldn't budge. The air fairly crackled with static.

Relenting slightly, he uttered through a snarl. "Several Muggle-born students are Petrified."

My brows creased in puzzlement, and I cocked my head faintly to the side. "Petrified? Of course, some would be frightened by Hogwarts. It's a completely different environment from what they're used to…"

Severus held his hand up to stop me. "Let me rephrase that." His lips twisted in irritation. "There is a force present in the school, hidden a thousand years ago by Salazar Slytherin, in a secret chamber that no one knows the location of, not even the Headmaster. It haunted the school many years ago, actually killing a student, according to Dumbledore, but hasn't been seen since. Tom Riddle was suspected then, and now, it seems that it has once again been unleashed and has targeted the Muggle-born students. I'll give you one guess as to who the prime suspect is. So, yes, the students are frightened, but some have actually been _Petrified_…as in, turned to stone." He watched as my expression changed from puzzled to shock. "As you can see, I was rather busy. The Headmaster has his own troubles to deal with, and I didn't want to impose on him with sending you a note simply to appease your delicate sensitivities."

I had begun to soften, but my hackles rose again with his final comment. "_My delicate sensitivities?_ I was worried about you! I was concerned that something was wrong and, obviously, I was right. I was expecting you and was hurt when you didn't show up and didn't let me know."

"So you sought out…other company," he hissed.

As I roared with exasperated anger, he pushed past me and headed for the kitchen. I stood in the study, listening to his heels retreat on the wooden floor, too angry to consider going after him. But, my ears perked up at the following scene.

As Severus reached the kitchen, Pinky blocked his path, using an elf's special magic to hold him in place.

"Pinky is sorry," she apologized for restraining him. "But, Master needs to know," she added timidly. "Mistress loves Master. Mistress asked Pinky to tell her when Master arrived at the celebration. When Master didn't show up, Mistress was very sad and went home. Mistress doesn't know, but Pinky listened as Mistress cried herself to sleep. Mistress wouldn't eat breakfast, and Pinky made her favourite." The little elf wrung her hands as her chin began to quiver. "Mistress stayed at the house waiting. So sad. So sad." She shook her head, ears flopping sideways. "Then, Mistress tells Pinky she's going out. When Mistress doesn't come back, Pinky went for Master, because Pinky is worried and knows that Master loves Mistress, too. Oh Master, you shouldn't fight. Pinky knows what it costs you two to love."

Severus began to visibly soften as the protective, little elf spoke. His shoulders slumped slightly, but his back remained rigid. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen listening to Pinky's confession and concern, but when she saw me, she hastily removed the restraint, and lowered her head in shame. Severus, feeling the magic let go, drew back his shoulders, pulled on his cloak, and strode out the backdoor without looking back. Pinky buried her face in her hands and howled, holding herself back from the natural instinct of self-punishment. I closed my eyes and turned to the wall, resting my head on the frame. In time, I numbly walked back down the hallway to the study and slumped into the large armchair in front of the fireplace. Too drained to move, I remained there, silently staring into the flames, until the dusk cast shadows on the old tomes on the bookcase and day turned into night.

I returned to Italy the following morning and did what I do best when life deals out its difficulties. I buried myself in work. Long days turned into late nights, and January's chill turned into February's mild breezes. The one letter that I had sent to Severus, via Stark, had been returned unopened. My heart was broken, and work became all-consuming. And, although I hadn't discussed my troubles with anyone, my supervisor and Carmen guessed that it was a problem of the heart. Both were sympathetic but never broached the subject.

The team's work with the Magpie mushrooms had turned into quite the project as the mushroom's effect on regenerating damaged brain cells became more evident. However, the hospital in Rome didn't have the sorts of injuries required for the type research and experimentation that needed to be done. There was only one alternative, one place that had these maladies – St. Mungo's in London. I had no desire to return to England anytime soon, but St. Mungo's, with its wide variety of war-induced injuries, was the perfect place to be. My supervisor noted my reluctance and told me to consider it a "humanitarian mission". With a little political negotiation between the Italian and British Ministries and a promise to share results, if or when, a treatment was created, I found myself back in England with a small team of research assistants, both British and Italian. The assistant director happily resumed the post as director in my absence, agreeing to continue the study from his end.

The lift was slow this morning. Standing in the lobby, facing the gilded bars, I waited patiently listening to the arrival of witches and wizards heading to work. In time, a smooth drawl sounded behind me, obviously talking to someone else. The voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"It's about time that old man was out of office. Even though it's only a suspension, the governors will see that he is incapable of holding such a post. You know…my only concern is for the students. Those poor children. Attacked at their own school. Tsk, tsk. Should never have happened."

_Old man…out of office…students…school_… The words swam through my head. What had happened? I casually glanced over my shoulder and instantly felt ill. _Il Biondo_. The Blonde. Malfoy. The monster of my nightmares that had haunted me for years. My head began to spin, and I reached out instinctively to steady myself only to have a well-manicured hand grip my upper arm. I jumped.

"Are you alright? You look quite pale," the cold voice belied the considerate action.

"Thank you," I forced a polite smile. "I've been waiting so long…I'm not certain what happened," I lied.

I received a twitch of an uninterested smile as the lift door opened, and we moved forward. Slowing inching our way up, the elevator stopped at the next floor to pick up another passenger.

"Good Morning, Mistress Di Marco," Minister Fudge greeted cheerily. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr Crabbe," he nodded tolerantly to the other occupants. "How have you been managing in our little laboratory?" he directed toward me, round face anxious for a reply.

"Fine, thank you, Sir," I answered politely. I didn't really like the Minister very much. He reminded me of an ostrich who buried his head in the sand whenever things didn't go smoothly. "We've spent the past week selecting some possible candidates for the experiments, but I fear it may take some time." I shook my head, glancing briefly at Malfoy who stood pretending not to listen. "I've never seen such atrocities of humans toward humans."

"Mmm, yes, horrible things happened," the Minister agreed absently. "You didn't have to deal with our war in Italy. Lucky. Nothing bad happened over there."

The lift doors opened on level three, and I disembarked, leaving the three men silently eyeing each other. _Nothing bad happened over there_ echoed in my mind. What did he know? Irritated, I shifted my brief case in my hand and headed for the lab. I had work to do.

Throughout the day, Malfoy's comments kept coming back to me. Something horrible must have happened at the school for Albus to be suspended from his position. I hadn't heard from him in months, and with the Severus' silence, I felt completely cut off. Maybe it was time for me to make a move. Sitting at the borrowed desk in a corner of the small lab, I penned a note to my grandfather.

_I'm concerned._

_What's going on?_

_D_

Sealing the parchment well, I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley, to the Wizard Post, and sent the letter by public owl, hoping that the owl would be able to find him. I chose this method as I knew, it would be difficult to trace, and I knew that Albus questioned some of the loyalties and certainly the integrity of some of the Ministry officials. I hoped to hear from him soon.

Days turned into weeks, and it was late-April before I heard from the old man.

St. Mungo's was quiet, and the Healers and mediwitches were making their scheduled rounds in the Janus Thickey Ward, also called Ward Forty-nine. I spoke with the head Healer on duty and checked in with a few patients that we had selected for the research. The team had decided to start with the simple, and eventually work its way up to the more serious injuries, as the potion was still very much experimental. I walked the antiseptic hallway and peered into the occasional chamber, observing the patients and examining their charts. It was sad to see the sort of spell damage that people had inflicted on each other.

By the time I returned to the large desk at the end of the corridor, I was completely engrossed by one particular case and had a feeling that it would become my next "red file folder": a horrible circumstance of a tortured couple that resulted in both being severely brain damaged. _Crucio_ had been the curse of choice, and having felt the bite of such a cruel weapon, my heart went out to this pair and their family. Closing the file and placing it pensively on the desk with the attending mediwitch, I glanced up to find a long bearded, old man in a brown brocade robe standing in front of me patiently waiting for my attention. His faded blue eyes didn't hold their customary twinkle, and he said nothing as he stood watching me, but I felt his message clearly. _Safe house, tomorrow night. _I nodded almost imperceptibly as he turned to meander down the hall, looking as if he were a long-time resident in this ward.

Draconus Filiastus, Dragon Weed, grew against the back wall of the fenced-in garden of the Cumberland safe house. The tiny purple flowers glowed with a violet hue, emitting a Protective Shield around the house and its occupants. Its light, musky scent floated gently on the spring breeze with an almost narcotic effect. I trudged up the path, not really wanting to be here, but needing to know what had been going on. The back door creaked open, and my grandfather sat sedately at the old, kitchen table, waiting. Slipping my cloak from my shoulders, I hung it on the wrought iron hook behind the door and sat in the chair opposite the old man. We both sighed, and then smiled despondently at each other.

"Welcome to the British Ministry," he tried to lighten the mood.

My eyebrows rose as I flickered a weak smile. Cutting to the chase, I asked, "Suspended? What on earth happened?"

"Mr. Malfoy happened," he said with a shrug, taking my cue and avoiding small-talk. "He managed to convince the other school governors that I was unfit to oversee the safety of the students." I shook my head in disbelief. "Ahh, fear not," he reassured, blue eyes finally beginning to twinkle behind half-moon glasses. "Though it may seem that I am out of the school, it has given me some freedom to…investigate…other issues. Your information regarding Voldemort's whereabouts has been helpful. Back in Albania? Interesting. I assumed that what was going on at the school involved him."

"Aren't the others in danger with you gone?" My concern was evident.

"I trust those left in charge to continue their vigilance," he stated confidently.

"What _is_ going on?" I asked. "I hear nothing, and what I did hear, I overheard from Malfoy himself at the Ministry."

"Malfoy saw you?" Albus asked alarmed.

"Yes, but he didn't recognise me. I keep my Vagueness Charm on almost constantly."

Albus nodded slowly. "And, Severus hasn't contacted you?"

I shook my head. "I haven't heard from him in months." The disappointment in my voice was clear. "Is he alright? Is he one that you left in charge?"

"Professor McGonagall is acting Headmistress, and she knows to trust Severus, but Severus is doing his own investigations into the chamber incident."

"So, he's been busy," I said sadly.

"Very, but he should not continue this rift with you. I am not one to get involved in other people's affairs, but I would advise that this not continue." He sat with his hands folded neatly on his lap talking as if he were gently reprimanding a student.

"The letter I sent was returned unopened."

"Severus can be a hard-headed, difficult man, but he loves you. Whatever the situation, I'm sure that you two will work it out somehow. You need each other and will need each other in the future." He shifted, then stood. "I must go. I have another appointment."

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" I asked hopefully.

He nodded slightly and replied, "Just do as I have asked." Then, he abruptly exited through the back door, leaving me standing in the middle of the kitchen, baffled.

_Do as he asked?_ I thought. _What did he ask me to do?_

Confused, I decided to return to my Ministry-owned quarters in London. Lifting my cloak from the hook, I swung it around my shoulders and pulled the door handle to leave. It wouldn't open. I tried again, tugging the knob. It wouldn't budge. Puzzled, I moved to the never-used front door and found it sealed as well. Then, the realization hit me. The old goat had locked me in! Removing my cloak, I settled at the kitchen table to think.

_What did he ask me to do?_

I'm not sure how long I sat there, but eventually the back door swung open and a flurry of black cloak swirled inside. Seeing me sitting at the table, the figure turned to leave, but the door had slammed shut behind him, a loud click, indicating that it had been locked. Grabbing the handle and shaking it hard, Severus swore under his breath, then spun toward me.

"Unlock the door!" he growled.

"I can't," I replied to a scowl. "_I_ didn't cast the spell."

"Then, who did?" Hs eyes narrowed.

"Who invited you here?" I asked trying to refrain from chuckling.

"Albus," Severus exhaled as he rolled his eyes and tipped his head back. "That's what he meant. Subtle."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." He turned to shake the handle again, and then headed for the front door.

"That one's sealed, too," I called from my seat.

Returning to the kitchen, he removed his cloak, and tossed it over the back of a chair, flopping open-kneed into another, and glaring at me from across the table.

I raised my left eyebrow at him and twitched a smile. So, this was Albus' way of _"not getting involved in other people's affairs"_? He lured both of us here and locked us in.

"What did he tell you?" I asked curiously.

Severus sat, fuming, saying nothing.

"He told _me_ that this couldn't continue, that we need each other, now and in the future. I agree. Severus, this has gone on long enough. We've been through too much to end things this way. We need to work things out."

"I had a feeling that there was something between you and Lupin, but I didn't think that it was still going on," he abruptly huffed.

"I confess that long ago, when you wouldn't have anything to do with me, while I was working on the Wolfsbane, Remus and I got, um…close, but it didn't last long as I couldn't get you out of my system. I told you this years ago in Syria."

Severus closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, steadying his breathing. "You admit that you two were lovers."

"What do you want me to say? It was something that shouldn't have happened but did."

"You just admitted that you were lovers," Severus reiterated, nostrils flaring.

"Yes," I conceded, keeping my voice as stable as I could but seeing that this was not going well.

"And, you spent a night with him at Christmas to retaliate for my not contacting you," he said firmly, staring at me with cold, black eyes.

"No," I defended. "I was hurt and went to the Gardens. I'm always soothed by the power of the plants. He showed up, and we talked. Nothing more. I didn't plan to meet him."

"Do you still care for him?"

"I'd be lying if I said "no", but I don't love him and have no intention of rekindling any sort of relationship with him. Severus, what happened happened many years ago when we were not together. I would never betray you."

"But, you have," he glowered.

I began to grit my own teeth. He was infuriating! What did he expect me to do after he left and refused to speak with me for nearly three years? Finally, I began to think of the events surrounding this particular situation. "And, you have never cared for anyone else other than me? I would have to be stupid to think that there has been no one else in your past," I shot back. "You know, I think this goes beyond Remus." I began to analyse the situation to a stony glare. "I think something is going on, and you're transferring your frustration onto me. The Severus _I _know would have found a way to inform me that he would not show up, so that I wouldn't worry. Instead you jumped all over me, angry, when I went off on my own. Severus, I've always supported you, had faith in you, even when you didn't want me to. Whatever it is, talk to me. What are you afraid of?" I beseeched.

The old mantel clock in the sitting room could be heard through the silence, the steady tick of minutes passing by. He sat there, glowering at the tabletop, unwilling to share his thoughts, no explanations forthcoming. As the silence continued, my determination to let him speak next solidified, however long it took. Finally recognising that we were at an impasse, his shoulders began to slump, and his head tipped slightly forward. With a slow, deep sigh, he crisply began in a measured voice.

"I've been investigating Malfoy's renewed activity in Dark circles," he finally confessed. "It would appear that he is leading a former group of the Dark Lord's followers, meeting regularly, and increasing forces. Malfoy is a powerful man, quite skilled at coercion and blackmail. I have been ingratiating myself to gain his confidence and believe that whatever is happening at the school, Malfoy, somehow, has a hand in it. I didn't want any outside contact I made be traced back to you. _That_ is why I didn't contact you."

"I understand," I nodded slowly. "But as selfish as this may sound, I was worried about you, and hurt that I couldn't see you. We hadn't seen each other in so long, and I was so looking forward to that night. I'd made plans, and when you didn't show, I was crushed."

"Maybe you shouldn't make plans that involve me anymore," he stated dejectedly.

"Maybe we should learn how to communicate better," I replied softly.

"What plans did you have?" Severus' lank hair had fallen into his face, and he brushed it aside with long, elegant fingers.

"Plans that would have made your toes curl," I grinned mischievously.

His right eyebrow rose, and a smile hesitantly twitched on the corners of his mouth. "Care to share those plans?"

I shook my head slowly, my smile drooping. "In all honesty, caro, I'd rather just be held right now, a reassurance that we're all right. I love you, and I've missed you. I just want our hearts to beat in comfort, together."

Gracefully rising from the stiff, wooden chair, Severus slowly strode around the table and tentatively held out his hand, pulling me to my feet, encompassing me in his strong, lean arms. I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face into his chest, holding on tight. I had no intention of letting go, and I wanted him to realize that.

"I once told you that I don't share well, and the past will always be there," he sighed. "But, I will admit, I've missed you, too," he whispered into my hair.


	31. Chapt 30 And Resolutions

**30 – And Resolutions **

My fingers lovingly stroked through the spread of coarse, black chest hair as I nestled protectively under a powerful right arm. Feeling to the steady rise and fall of my partner's slumber, I listened as his heart calmly beat. It had been a rough night. A night of fury and confrontations, confessions and revelations, finally coming to an understanding that we must trust in the bonds made so many years ago, years even before the Goddess blessed our union, the bonds of trust made when we were students at Hogwarts. Albus saw it then, but I wonder if he ever saw what we were to become. Severus stirred and groggily placed his hand over mine, halting my fingers. I kissed his chest and rolled over, turning my back to him as he moved to mould his body to mine from behind, his arm reaching over and enveloping me in loving warmth. His snore was light in my ear, and I smiled contently as I drifted back to sleep.

"I really would have loved to see you knock that pompous windbag on his arse," I chuckled from the doorway of the bathroom as Severus stepped from the tiny shower.

"Language," he tsked while suppressing his own satisfied smirk. "It was quite gratifying to ruffle the feathers on _that_ peacock, especially in front of most of the student body."

I handed him his trousers as he finished towelling off. "Quite the shock to find that young Potter is a Parselmouth, though. Do you really think that he had turned the snake on his classmate?"

Severus snorted, "No. I don't even think he realized what he was doing. He looked startled afterward. Something to keep an eye on though." Pulling up his pants but leaving them undone, he took a long pace toward me, slipping a hand around my lower back, pulling me close. "I wonder if the seal has been released on the doors?" he nuzzled into my neck with his magnificent nose.

"Does it matter?" I asked with a playful grin as I was backed down the hallway to the bedroom. My skill at walking in reverse was a bit rusty, and I banged into the edge of the doorframe with my shoulder. Wincing, my discomfort was replaced by a seductive series of kisses from my neck to the rising bruise. Who cared if the seal was released! This was heavenly!

Feeling the covers being tossed back in the late afternoon, I groaned as Severus rose and reached for his clothes.

"Do you realize that we've been in bed for most of the day?" he asked as his stomach growled loudly. "Surely, those doors are unlocked by now."

"Mmmm, think we've "made up" enough?" I smiled contently while languidly rolling onto my side, having no desire to rise. "Do you realize when the last time we made love was?" I returned.

"Far too long ago," he answered as he stood and placed a quick kiss on my forehead. "I really must get back. Merlin knows what's happened in my absence, and with the Headmaster gone…Gods, I'm surprised that he did this! That left McGonagall alone to contend with…." He flung his hands into the air in astonishment as he turned to reach for his frock coat.

"I'm sure she's quite capable of handling whatever comes up. Albus wouldn't put the students at risk. He must know something that we don't."

"Hmm," he grumbled in wonder. "No, stay there." Severus stopped me from getting out of bed. "I want to remember you like this. I have no idea what's ahead, and I'm more than adequate in Occlumency to cover such a memory," he smirked in smugness as I let the sheet pool on my naked lap.

I remained propped against the pillows as he leaned to stroke my face, then my breast while his lips brushed mine.

"Will you be returning to Pineto this summer?" he asked as he backed away, fastening the last of his buttons.

"I'm not certain. I'd like to, but it depends on the study. If not, you know where to find me," I smiled hopefully.

He nodded solemnly.

"Do you want to go back?" I asked suddenly.

"No." His answer was sharp as he stepped toward the door. "I never want to risk another situation like Tuscany. Never. The way Malfoy talks, I have strong suspicions that he was involved in that, or at least knew about it."

I could feel my hackles rise. "You think?"

"Yes. I don't trust the man."

I smirked. "You don't trust anyone."

"I trust you," he solemnly replied through the dark curtain of hair.

I smiled lovingly at him.

"Until we meet again, cara," where his parting words as he bowed out of the room and strode down the hall to the kitchen.

"Ti amo, caro," I called, rapidly feeling his loss once again.

"Can you believe it?"

"Can't think of anyone who deserves it more."

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful! Especially after all they've been through."

The main lobby of the Ministry was buzzing with excitement as I arrived for work. Gossip had informed me that Albus had been reinstated nearly a month ago, the Petrified students had been revived by the Mandrake Potion and with exams cancelled; the school year was rapidly coming to an end. The youngest Weasely had somehow been involved in a life-threatening situation that apparently young Potter had saved her from, and Arthur Weasely had just won a contest from the _Daily Prophet_ resulting in a rather substantial cash prize. I smiled inwardly, thinking that he could certainly use some good fortune.

The lift doors opened, and several of us squeezed in before it could magically broaden for the group. Just as the doors were about to close, we heard running footsteps, and a hand slid through the bars. The doors reopened to admit the new arrival, and I came face to face with my old contact. We stared at each other for a split second before I mentally strengthened my Vagueness Charm and offered my "congratulations". He nodded his thanks with a wide grin and was clapped on his back and shoulders by the other occupants as we rode up.

"So, Arthur, what do you plan to do with your winnings?" one asked jovially.

"First, I'm going to buy my youngest son a new wand. Snapped his in two at the beginning of the school year. Can't trust any spell he casts. It's a wonder that he hasn't injured someone," Arthur chuckled with the others. "My eldest is in Egypt at the moment, and Molly and I were talking about taking the family for a visit. We've never been abroad. It would be quite the adventure."

"Indeed, it would," his colleagues agreed.

As the lift stopped at different floors, witches and wizards embarked and disembarked, preparing for their day. At the third floor, I excused myself and slid past my old friend. I knew that he was still a part of the Order of the Phoenix, and I wanted to somehow let him know who I was, but knew that was impossible, too much rode on my being a ghost. Strangely enough, he watched me leave, a perplexed look on his face.

"A Horcrux? Do you really think so? That's seriously advanced magic, and he would have had to do it while still in school," I exclaimed as we sat in the small study of the safe house. "But, it would explain why I still thought he was in Albania."

"He was a brilliant student, and I believe he had the skill to do it, and it would explain why he needed someone else to do his bidding. The diary merely acted as a catalyst," Albus replied, his face passive. "But, I fear that speculation needs to be confirmed. You are the only one who knows his location and can get in and out of the area without raising suspicion. I'm certain an excuse can be made for your return to Italy."

I leaned back in the large armchair, staring at the bookcase by the fireplace. "It's been months since I've been back. Yes, I could easily find a plausible excuse. It's about time I personally checked in with my own Ministry anyway. Information has been forwarded, but it's not the same as getting it yourself. When do you want me to leave?"

"As soon as it can be arranged. The new school year will begin in a few weeks. I want to be certain where our enemy lies." There was a pause, as he seemed to ponder the next few words. "Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban."

"How is that possible?" My head snapped toward him in shock. No one had ever escaped that island fortress.

"I'm not certain, but it has been reported that he had been talking in his sleep about Hogwarts. I suspect he knows that young Potter is there."

"Sirius and James were best friends." I shook my head in disbelief. Sirius had never been one of my favourite people, but he was fiercely loyal to his friends. I would never believe that he was capable of what he was accused of. "You can't honestly believe that he's guilty? We know who turned on the Potters."

"Do we? We know who attacked them, but I'm afraid the evidence against Sirius was overwhelming. My hands were tied." Albus solemnly shook his head, and there was another pause as his lips pressed together in thought. "I've chosen a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Someone skilled at the subject and who can keep a close eye on Harry."

"You've finally given the job to Severus?" I asked with an excited smile, but my smile quickly faded as I viewed Albus' serious face.

"No. I've hired Remus Lupin." He watched my reaction carefully.

My jaw dropped, and I flopped back into the armchair. "Oh, Severus isn't going to like that," I breathed warningly. "Why? Why couldn't he have the job? He's wanted it for so long, and there's no one more skilled at it than he? He knows what's coming."

"I will not explain my choices; simply understand that Severus is needed exactly where he is. Remus is an excellent teacher, and Severus can easily provide his potion."

"Gods, Albus, That's like rubbing salt in a wound. You know that Remus and I were involved for a while." I shook my head at the old man.

"Really?" he asked with an impish grin.

"Not funny…grandfather." I glared at him. "Do you just want to see the sparks fly? Stir things up? Don't we have enough to think about without wondering if Severus will try to poison Remus?"

"A little dramatic, don't you think? I need as many Order members as possible in the castle this year. And, with Dementors flying about…" His thought drifted as his jaw hardened. He hated the thought of the Dementors being so close to the school. The temptation of preying on the young minds may be too much. "I fear that this year will be a turning point."

"Gut feeling or premonition?"

I didn't receive an answer.


	32. Chapt 31 The Hunter and the Hunted

**31 – The Hunter and the Hunted**

The shutters were thrown open, and the windows were raised in the small villa in Pineto, and the apartment seemed to heave a sigh of relief as the fresh air blew through the open spaces. The smell of the salt breeze and the sound of the tourists on the beach infiltrated my senses, making me feel instantly at home. I loved this quiet hamlet and had missed it with the hustle and bustle of London. Pinky was quickly making her way through the musty rooms casting cleaning spells and ridding the surfaces of dust and cobwebs, while Stark re-adopted his perch on the balustrade. I stood on the balcony and stared out over the deep blue Adriatic Sea, inhaling the freshness and feeling the warm sun on my face. It was good to be home.

The last meeting with Albus had been intense. His concern for the Potter boy bordered on fear, and with Sirius Black on the loose and Dementors posted at the school, the patriarch was under a great deal of stress. He needed to rely on any and all members of the Order for assistance. As a result, he had hired Remus to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Severus was obliged to remain vigilant and focused. I would see very little of him this year, if at all, as I had been instructed to stay away from the grounds for my own safety. I had hoped that Severus would make it to Pineto this summer, but he had been adamant about not returning. His concern regarding Malfoy was obvious, and his anger at Malfoy's probable involvement in the destruction of our home in Tuscany solidified his stance that it would never happen again. Of course, there was no glaring proof, but I trusted Severus' instincts. We had discussed meeting in Spain before the school year began, but time was ticking away, and there was much to be done.

Upon my return to the Italian Ministry, I did not receive an entirely warm welcome. The old crones gathered and whispered behind their hands as I walked the long, black and white tile corridor toward the lab. Carmen had timely emerged from her cubicle to greet me with a friendly smile, brushing off the hags, and telling me to ignore them. Apparently, the assistant director had been complaining about my return to anyone who would listen. I understood his distress and tried to be accommodating, however, my reception from him was one of definite unspoken resentment. He was grudgingly willing to relinquish the post and was pleasantly surprised when I declined to take charge. I felt that he had done an admirable job in my absence and deserved to keep the position and the recognition that came with it. I wasn't very good at the administrative end, preferring research, and knew that I would, once again, be in and out of the office on various tasks. The department needed someone consistent to oversee things, and I had to be honest, at the present time, that wasn't me.

As the week progressed, I met with my supervisor, and we discussed, at length, the needs of the department. My role had changed over the past seven years. Originally, I had been hired as Head of Research, yet, as, the years passed, the role expanded, new duties were added, and a new title had been created – Director of the Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions. In the beginning, I managed to balance it all, but now, it had become too much. I raised the possibility of my resigning the post, and my supervisor's initial reaction was one of shock. He was clearly against the idea, but as we spoke, he finally saw the logic behind the request. I was being pulled in many different directions. Besides the various research tasks and teams that I was currently involved with at both the Italian and British Ministries, I was still occasionally lecturing at Oxford, had a research grant at John Radcliffe Hospital that I had to keep producing for, and was trying to balance the administrative end of being department head. On a separate note, which I couldn't discuss with him, I was about to embark on yet another hunt for Voldemort that would take me out of the country for an indeterminate period of time. It was impossible to do it all successfully. It was time to give something up. By the end of the meeting, my supervisor agreed that something had to be done to satisfy all parties, and he promised to run a proposal by the Minister of Magic as soon as he could. I was offered a month leave of absence, and we scheduled another meeting for when I returned. I could already feel one pressure release as another was about to build.

Vlore was as uninviting as ever. Its dark, dank streets were nearly deserted as I Apparated into the dingy alley near the Albanian pub where I had first encountered Quirrell. I had visited several times over the past few evenings, gathering information that would lead me back into the Dark Forest. There had been no time to make a Polyjuice Potion, so I had altered my appearance magically, remaining female but rougher around the edges. My hair was longer and unkempt, my skin sallow, and my clothing grubby and slightly tattered. However, this charm was only temporary and any half-skilled witch or wizard could detect it, so time was of the essence. I had to move quickly.

Cautiously entering the pub and scanning the area for magical energy, I leaned against the beer-splattered bar, listening intently to the local conversations. Most were inconsequential, but some were of importance. All of the excitement that had been focused on the Dark Forest the year before had died down and only the odd concern arose from hikers and woodsmen over the sightings of a very large snake in the vicinity. The snake grew each time the story was told: ten feet, fifteen feet, twenty feet long, black with glistening, red eyes, always near the centre of the woods, near a clearing, at the base of a mountain. Details were pieced together, and there was a general consensus as to the location of the snake. Some had curiously gone to track it down but all had returned frightened, never wanting to return, claiming the forest was haunted by evil spirits. If only they knew. I began formulating a plan of where and how to start looking for my adversary. Had he possessed a snake again? It wouldn't be the first time. Was it the same snake that he had possessed prior to meeting Quirrell? Very possibly. Paying the bill, I headed for the dilapidated hotel room that I had rented several blocks from the pub. It was late, and the street was deserted. Stepping over a grubby, old drunk who had passed out at the entrance of the building, I climbed the rickety, wooden stairs to the second floor and slipped, unseen, into the room. I had much to prepare. Tomorrow, I would head to the forest.

The shimmer from the Disillusionment Charm reflected softly in the shadows as I silently crept my way through the dense underbrush of the woods. The treetops were so close together that very little of the mid-morning sunlight could infiltrate to the forest floor. I had Apparated directly into a small clearing that had been described by one of the pub's patrons, hoping to land safely in the proper area, and stealthily moved deeper into the woods. I could feel the oppressive wards that had been set to discourage visitors. A combination of depression, overwhelming misery, with hints of apprehension laced with fear would have turned most away, but I pressed on, casting Occlumency, and pushing all feelings aside. Having cast a Protective Shield upon arriving, I added a Dampening Charm in order to conceal my extreme use of magical energy. It was exhausting and would not be completely effective as any powerful wizard could easily detect any magical energy. I just didn't know how much power the foe had regained.

No birds chirped, and no small animals scurried under foot as I moved forward. Stopping, I stood and listened to the breeze rustle the leaves overhead, sensing …something. Then, I heard it; a sound like something being dragged across the forest floor, a movement so steady that it resonated like a continuous hiss. Continuing my path, the trees co-operatively parted ahead of me, exposing a trail. I crouched at the base of a large pine, listening and waiting patiently, and as the hiss approached, the sight of the longest snake I had ever seen slithered by, horrifying me. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air as it passed, and I held my breath, fearing to move. It paused briefly and raised its head as if to look around, but seeing nothing, continued on its way, a small bulge at its middle indicating what appeared to be the last meal that it had eaten. I followed at a careful distance until it reached a large hole at the base of the mountain and disappeared inside. Empathically, I reached out to any creature, any feeling would be accepted, but the ward hindered the feedback. I did, however, sense one word. _"Soon."_

During the following two weeks, Stark accompanied me as I returned to the forest on a regular basis. His companionship kept my focus steady against the depressing wards and haunting trepidation. The snake seemed to sense a disturbance in its domain and occasionally appeared to "seek me out", playing a game of cat and mouse, hiding in wait but never able to get close enough to determine what was there. I could sense its thoughts, which almost seemed to echo in my mind, like a duality of some sort, as if an entity was spurring it on, assisting in the hunt. Its tongue would flick, tasting, smelling, and several times it got close enough strike out but never did. The Disillusionment Charm and the Dampening Charm were strong enough to elude the creature. It remained vigilant, but finally seemed to accept the disorder, going about its business as usual, hunting small prey and always returning to the same opening. I had never attempted to venture in, fearing that that would be a clear indication that the disturbance was a potentially a threat, but I needed to know what was there. The wards were so strong.

On one particular morning, I lingered in the underbrush at the edge of the clearing outside the cave, gathering my nerve as I waited for the snake to emerge. I had formulated a plan the night before, and Stark would play a key role. He would follow the serpent on its daily outing and alert me when the creature was set to return. While it was gone, I would investigate the lair. Patience and timing were key, and eventually, the snake appeared; sluggishly slithering onto its well-used path while Stark took silent flight overhead. I moved cautiously forward entering the cave on my hands and knees.

The space was undersized for such a large creature, more like a den, with a pile of dead grass and moss pushed into the centre, patted down and comfortable. The walls were smooth and moist, and the smell of decay and musk hung heavily in the thick air. I placed my hand over my mouth to avoid gagging. Scanning the dark hole, there was no evidence of Voldemort anywhere, and beyond the ward, I couldn't even sense his presence. Puzzled, I invisibly crawled through the burrow, mentally measuring the dimensions and make-up of the nest, inspecting the remains of small rodents that the snake had eaten and apparently regurgitated at the nest's edge, and searching for any other information that may help solve the mystery.

I had been in the lair for several minutes when I received a sudden surge of powerful emotion that made me rock backward onto my haunches.

_Something is wrong with it._ I heard Stark's frantic caw.

_What's happening?_ I responded, slightly panicked, searching for a hiding spot.

_I'm not certain. It's writhing. Like it's in pain. It's heading back to the cave._

Quickly moving to the opening, my path was blocked by the slow-moving serpent. It bowed and contracted struggling to reach its goal. I had no choice but to back into the cave, strengthening the Dampening Charm, and pressing myself against the far wall as it slithered past and coiled into the nest. I sat, watching in awe, as its body constricted for several minutes before expelling a small mass of white, slimy flesh from a diminutive opening about four feet from the end of its tail. The globule lay motionless as the snake began to relax, flashing its tongue and sinking its fangs into the gooey mass. My heart raced, and I was frozen to the spot as I watched the serpent roll the mass around the nest and curl its tail around it, drawing it close. Strangely, it was the size and shape of a newborn babe, and as I stood staring, the creature was rolled outward and a horrid, semi-human face was exposed. Its eyes were closed, but the nostril slits flared with each struggling breath. As it lay motionless against the smooth underbelly of the snake, the tip of a forked tongue flitted out from between the tiny lips.

_No,_ I thought in horror as the bile began to rise from my stomach. _No!_

The serpent raised its head and hissed, flicking its tongue in my direction, but remained protectively wrapped around its young.

I quickly rolled onto my knees and crawled out of the cave, my stomach heaving, nausea making me dizzy. Rising, I turned to the clearing and stumbled forward, releasing the Disillusionment Charm that had become difficult to maintain in my sickened state.

Stark swooped down and latched his claws into the shoulder of my sweater, pulling as I began to unsteadily weave through the forest.

_What happened?_ he asked as he dragged me toward the path.

I shook my head at the reoccurring image, nausea returning with the thought.

Stark held tighter, hauling me forward as I stumbled blindly.

_What happened?_ he repeated with more urgency as we reached the edge of the forest.

"It's alive," I choked, falling to my knees, vomiting violently onto the soft ground.

I remained in that position for several minutes, shaking uncontrollably, and relieving my stomach of what felt like every meal I had ever eaten. A very concerned raven watched helplessly from a nearby rock, and when I was done, I rolled to my right hip and sat for a few moments resting, fluids streaming from every orifice on my face. Stark hopped along the ground and leaned against my arm.

_Are you going to be all right?_ he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

After another moment, Stark replied, _We should get moving. Can you Apparate back?_

Pausing, I nodded and unsteadily rose to my feet. "I'm going directly to the room. I'll open the window for you." And with that, I closed my eyes and focused on the rundown hotel room with its well-worn, cabbage-smelling carpet, and grey, threadbare blanket on the single bed. With a quiet 'pop', I vanished from the Dark Forest and reappeared exactly where I thought to be. Opening the window, I stumbled into the grungy bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, rinsed out my mouth, and stared into the cracked mirror. _Could it be true? Did you really see what you think you saw?_ I shook my head in disbelief and made my way back to the narrow bed. Falling into it, I curled into a tight ball on my side and pulled the smelly blanket over me as I began to shiver again. Sleep. All I need is sleep. But, sleep wasn't coming anytime soon.

Shadows cast through the filth-encrusted window as the streetlights illuminated the pavement below. I hadn't moved in hours, and my left hip and arm were numb from my weight. Shifting onto my back and gazing around the room, I spied Stark perched on the worn dresser in the opposite corner, his head turned toward the window, standing guard. I smiled at the noble sight.

"Have you eaten?" I asked, my voice cracking from disuse.

His head spun toward me, and he flew to the small table that served as a nightstand.

_I didn't want to leave you,_ he answered, concern etched in his thoughts.

I smiled again and reached to stroke the sleek, black head. "I'm all right. I'm very proud of you. I couldn't have done it without you."

_You scared me_, he shivered. _It must have been horrible. I've never seen you like that_.

I shuddered at the thought. "I have to go back."

_Why? Haven't you done enough?_

"I have to confirm what I saw. I have to be certain. If this is what I think, then the Wizard world is in for one heck of a shock."


	33. Chapt 32 Surprises

**32 – Surprises**

The following week, Stark and I returned to the forest several times. I had to be certain of what I had seen, and Stark kept a protective eye on me. The perimeter defences had been strengthened, and the snake didn't leave the nest often. The wards surrounding the cave were impenetrable, and Stark had to pull me to safety when I got too close. One thing was assured, my empathic powers picked up an overwhelming feeling of success and newly generating energy. It was frightening. However, instead of allowing the oppressive wards to diminish my abilities, I pushed myself into research mode to analyse the situation. How could this have come to be? What elements were used to regain a physical body? Thinking back, the unicorn blood had given Voldemort a half-life, sustaining him as he fed off of Quirrell. Did this snake provide some sort of ingredient to enhance that? Remembering that the serpent had bitten the newborn moments after the birth, maybe there was something in the venom. I could only speculate.

The month was coming to an end, and I had learned all that I could for the moment. Albus needed to know what was going on, and I needed to return to Rome. Sighing as I glanced around the shabby hotel room while packing my meagre belongings into a small rucksack, I thought to myself, I _**really**__ need a vacation!_

The third floor corridor was full of activity as I stepped from the lift and headed for the lab. My stay in Rome had been short lived as my supervisor and the new Administrative Head of Experimental and Medicinal Potions made life very easy for me. My post had been divided into two, each with equal authority but handling different aspects of the job. My former assistant would now oversee the political end of things while I focused on what I did best – research and potions creations. Everyone was satisfied, and I returned to England with a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

"The results are in!" one of the lab technicians beamed, waving at me as I entered the lab. "You came back just in time!"

He handed me a folder containing notes from the head Healer of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. It contained a progress report on several patients who were trying the experimental potion made with the Magpie mushroom. Each of the cases was a reasonably mild form of brain damage caused by misused spells, and it showed improvements in body function and in some cases memory. I was elated with the results. Things were looking up.

I was kept very busy until the holiday season. A new lecture series was scheduled at Oxford for the new year, progress meetings at John Radcliffe solidified my standing that the intracellular transmission system study was making headway, eliminating some minor forms of carcinogenic elements and reducing mutations in certain types of lymph node cancer, and the successful testing at St. Mungo's of the Magpie Potion gave us the encouragement to step up the testing to more serious cases.

As the month progressed, I half-heartedly welcomed the festive season with its multitude of social events. Granted, I needed a mental diversion, but I was not looking forward to spending it alone.

There was a wonderful glint in Adam Kurtz's eyes when I attended the faculty party at the Biochem building in mid-December. He seemed to be less sharp with people and a bit more social as he awkwardly mingled with Miss Pratt clinging to his arm. She had a remarkably soothing effect on him, and it was good to see him smile, although it was more like a pained smirk. As I approached, the glitter on her finger caught my eye, and I broke into a wide grin. Offering my congratulations to the newly engaged couple, I gave Adam a quick peck on the cheek and reached out warmly to Miss Pratt, who pulled her fiancé protectively closer and away from me. He frowned, and I had to smile again. She had no reason to be jealous.

The Yule celebration at the Society's Manor House was splendid, as usual, but I definitely wasn't in the mood to be there. I hadn't heard from Severus in months, and the last communiqué I had from Albus was distressing. Sirius Black had somehow infiltrated the castle and attacked a portrait in an attempt to gain entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. The figure in the portrait had denied him access and had fled after the attack. It was puzzling, and something that needed further investigation. Albus was keeping his allies as close as possible.

At the celebration, I made my obligatory rounds, chatting pleasantly and playing my role well. Pinky had spent the past couple of days helping the Society elves prepare and was presently collecting cloaks from arriving guests. She looked forward to the festivities and revisiting her friends every year and positively beamed.

As I moved toward the spindly chairs on the far side of the room, a voice cheerily called out. "Mistress Di Marco, it's so good to see you." Master Whitherling approached looking dashing in black formal robes, his silver hair glistening against the dark cloth.

"I didn't see you earlier." I smiled at my old colleague, reaching my hand to amiably clasp his. "I would have come to pay my respects sooner."

He waved his hand, silencing me. "My wife was slow in preparing herself. We arrived late," he said in hushed tones as he leaned a bit closer. "I keep telling her she's beautiful, but I think she's a bit self-conscious right now."

I gave him a quizzical look, and then understood as I saw his wife waddle toward us, very pregnant. I smiled broadly and started to giggle. "You old dog!" I playfully slapped at his arm. "Congratulations! I hadn't heard."

"Thank you, my dear," he beamed as he affectionately wrapped his arm around his mate.

"When is the baby due?" I asked curiously. She looked like she could drop at any moment.

"Would you believe, not until February," she sighed heavily, placing her hand at the base of her back, stretching slightly.

I was no Healer, but I wouldn't be surprised if she was carrying twins.

As the evening wore on, I danced with a few of my contemporaries, even relenting to dancing with that horrid Master who was always so obnoxious. I had learned how to deal with his leering grin and foul breath over the years, and as he returned me to the edge of the dance floor, I spied an imposing figure in the entrance way. My heart thudded in my chest as Severus stepped into the reception hall. Dressed in classic black robes with Slytherin green and silver trim, his lank hair curtained his face; dark rings under his eyes extenuated his sallow skin, telling a story of late nights and much stress. He looked too tired to scowl, but managed anyway. Guests raised their heads as he entered, his imposing six-foot frame towering over most of them. I stood on the opposite side of the room, staring. I had missed him so much.

"Look what the cat dragged in," the leering wizard sneered as he released my arm, "and coughed up," he added as he abandoned me to join his companions near the bar.

Severus strode into the room and relieved a house elf of two shots of Firewhiskey, downing them one after another.

_Ouch_, I sent. _Doesn't that burn?_

His head slowly rose, scanning the room until he located me.

_Welcome to the party. I'm glad you made it. _I twitched a smile as we made eye contact.

He tipped his head almost imperceptibly in acknowledgement then turned to greet Chairwizard Castwell and a few of the senior Masters that were standing near by. His comments were curt but reasonably polite, and he stood talking with the men for a few moments before moving deeper into the room.

I waited, watching from the sidelines, as the crowd parted to admit the new arrival.

_How have you been?_ I sent as he stopped at the refreshment table.

_It's not easy_, he replied, picking at a plate of cheese and finding a comfortable spot against the far wall. _Albus felt that I should make an appearance._

_I'm glad you did. I've missed you, _I replied before plunging forward_. I've heard things, mostly from the Ministry. Did the Dementors really attack the Potter boy?_

Severus' head tipped slightly forward.

_That's insane! They're not supposed to be on the grounds. What is the Ministry thinking?_

Severus' scowl intensified, and I could see his jaw tighten. There was something more. Our eyes met for a split second, then diverted.

_I heard that Black got into the castle_.

Oh, now _that_ was the wrong thing to say. I didn't think that his scowl could possible get any deeper, but it did. He looked positively furious. At that inopportune moment, an ancient colleague approached and clapped Severus on the shoulder, demanding his attention.

"Snap out of it, my boy. It's the holiday season. Lighten up a little." He handed Severus another Firewhiskey from a passing elf and watched him gulp it down. The old wizard grinned a toothy grin and continued to wander aimlessly through the crowd.

_Sorry,_ I sent. _I didn't mean to upset you_.

_I'll live…but I don't know if Black will,_ Severus replied, his bitterness was evident.

We wandered our separate ways for a while, keeping our distance but keeping an unassuming eye on each other from opposite sides of the room. Eventually, I lost track of him and turned abruptly when long fingers grasped my elbow.

"Dance?" a deep voice asked as I was roughly pulled to the dance floor.

The mellow waltz had already begun when we assumed the formal stance and began to gracefully move to the music.

"Isn't this opposed to your character?" I whispered as I slowly spun under Severus' arm.

"Yes, but I danced with you once last year, as well," he replied, expertly manoeuvring us around the floor.

"Is this another dare?" I asked, not sure whether to be insulted or elated.

"No," he said shortly, his head tipping to meet mine, a small twitch playing at the corners of his mouth.

When the music stopped, we noticed several people whispering and watching. Severus backed to a safe distance, making a miniscule bow, turning sharply on his heel, and retreating to the bar. I made a quick curtsey in return and made my way to the refreshment table before the next piece of music could commence.

About half an hour later, a squeal erupted from a small gathering of aging witches and cackles rippled through the crowd. The annual mistletoe had arrived and heads turned to follow the flitting greenery, which seemed to be on a mission. It didn't make its customary random stops but seemed to be in search of someone in particular. Curiously, that someone was Severus. The foliage quickly found its target and planted itself over his head, refusing to move and doubling in size when Severus attempted to blast it out of the air. His fury grew as many of the Masters and Mistresses, as well as their companions, openly laughed at his predicament. Abruptly turning, his robes dramatically flaring as he spun, he fumed his way to the entrance hall. Another poof of wand fire and an infuriated groan was heard, and the laughter increased, as everyone knew that he had tried unsuccessfully to blast it away again. I listened to comments and reactions, as I sat alone in the row of frail chairs.

"He deserves it," one witch said waving her hand toward the door.

"I wonder how he'll get rid of it?" her companion laughed.

"He'll have a bush over his head if he keeps trying to get rid of it that way." An old wizard wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand as laughter overcame him again.

I shook my head in annoyance and quickly made my way across the floor to the exit.

Severus had been pacing the marble entranceway and had stopped by the fireplace as if considering leaving. His left arm leaned across the mantle, his right hand on his hip, a slight flush crept up his neck as his jaw set tight, and I could tell that he was gritting his teeth.

"Unless you've got someone at home to help you get rid of that," I pointed to the hedge-like bush above his head, "you'd best stay around." _If looks could kill,_ I thought as I received an icy glare.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," an elderly witch exclaimed from across the hall. "It's not the end of the world. All you need is a kiss." And, she marched up to Severus and planted a soggy kiss on his cheek before he could pull back. Surprisingly, the mistletoe remained.

The leering wizard and his compatriots arrived at the entranceway with a possible explanation delivered through difficultly restrained laughter. "I think _he_ has to initiate it. After all, it's over _his_ head." A scoff rose from his chest before he finished his sentence, and Severus narrowed his eyes at the menace.

"No one deserves this kind of humiliation," I defended, "regardless of their disposition. This isn't right." I paused and turned toward Severus who had his back to the growing crowd. "Master Snape…" I began kindly as I took a step forward. "Master Snape…" I repeated and reached out when I didn't receive a reply.

"I don't need your defence," he barked to the mantle. "Or your pity."

"You have my defence as I would defend anyone treated badly, but you don't have my pity, you're far too foul-tempered for that," I shot back, to the muffled chuckles of the gathering. "As I said, no one deserves to be humiliated like this. You may not have the best temperament, but you are a brilliant Potions Master, the youngest in Wizard history," I turned to remind the group sharply. I reached out tenderly, touching his shoulder, making him turn toward me. Our eyes locked for a moment, and then I raised my chin to place a kiss on his cheek. As I was about to make contact, his head turned and our lips met, to the gasp of the witnesses. It was sweet and tender, a feeling that I had missed, but before I had time to respond, he pulled way and looked up. The mistletoe had diminished in size but still lingered. With a frustrated huff, he grabbed my hand and abruptly pulled me out of the entrance and up the stairs to a quiet alcove on the second floor. The crowd buzzed behind us as I feigned resistance but went willingly along. Reaching an isolated corner, Severus cast several wards to keep people away and urgently backed me into the wall, lowering his head to mine and running his magnificent nose along my jaw line. I involuntarily shivered. The tip of his tongue reached out, tasting an earlobe, making its way to my mouth. My knees felt like water. His tongue danced along the edge of my lips before he hungrily assaulted them, pressing his entire body against mine. I responded instantly to the rising desire to be with the man I loved.

"How are we going to explain this?" I asked, panting through small, desperate kisses that I placed on the underside of his jaw.

"The mistletoe," he grunted as my thigh pushed against the bulge in his trousers while his hands roamed to the lacings on my black, silk bodice.

"They're not going to believe that," I tried to reason when reason was quickly vanishing.

"We'll think of something," Severus moaned as he pushed me backward along the wall and opened one of the heavy, wooden doors. Backing me into a book-lined study, the assault renewed as he nipped at the crook of my neck, grabbing my buttocks, and lifting me to sit on the edge of the large, oak desk in the middle of the room. His lips were so sweet, so tender, yet contained the passion of months of suppression. It was pure energy needing release, and a fiery red aura began to emanate from us. It drove us on. He finally released the ties of the dress and hesitantly pushed the fabric over my shoulders. It was a wanton sight, and his eyes gazed hungrily as I hauled the full black satin skirt onto my lap. Pulling him between my knees and pushing his robe aside, my hand reached for the bulge that needed liberation. His head tipped back as he hissed to the ceiling. I stroked the twitching appendage, grasping through the fabric that was pulled taunt.

"Do it," I whispered, watching his face contort with pleasure. "Just do it." My head tipped back as his lips moved to my collarbone, his hands roaming under the fabric pushing the edge of my knickers aside. I could feel him struggle to adjust himself and then… _Yes! _ _Sweet ecstasy_. The motion was sharp and frantic, but oh, so, needed. I clung to him, my legs wrapped around his thighs as my climax rose almost instantly. His was close behind. It didn't take long. Clinging to each other and breathing heavily, our hearts pounded a strong rhythm as our bodies exploded together. Then, resting in each other's arms, we relaxed, leaning against the desk, feeling utterly spent.

Severus raised his head and looked up, a smirk and snort went through him. "Well, the mistletoe is gone."

I looked up, my legs still wrapped around him. "A simple kiss would have gotten rid of it, but I liked this better," I added as I seductively moved against him again.

He pulled his head back slightly and looked at me suspiciously. "How would you know what would have ridded it?"

"Umm." I tipped my head away with a slight smirk.

"You didn't!" he expelled, his eyes wide, still holding on.

"Sorry, caro, but I thought it would be a good excuse for you to kiss me and keep your cover. I didn't realize it would go this far…not that I'm complaining, mind you." I raised my eyes through my lashes and batted them innocently, while trying unsuccessfully to suppress an impish grin.

His eyes rolled as he pulled me close. "And, they call _me_ bad!" he chuckled lightly.

After regaining our composure and casting a good cleaning charm, we straightened ourselves and sat in two, dark leather, wing-backed chairs in the masculine study to talk. Severus said little that I hadn't already heard, but was more intent on hearing about my adventure in Albania. His concern was great, and he strongly suspected Black of trying to find a way to return to the Dark Lord, but Black was on a mission first, to kill Potter. Or, was he? I had my doubts and could sense that Albus had his doubts, too. The time spent in Azkaban appeared to have a detrimental toll on Sirius' mental state, and he seemed to be quite mad, totally unpredictable, yet brilliant in eluding capture. It was still a mystery how he had escaped Azkaban, and no one had found a way to get close enough to lure him out. Was he getting help? If so, from who?

After about half an hour, we felt that we had caused enough scandal by isolating ourselves, so Severus devised a plan to save my reputation. The large, bay window of the study overlooked the Apparition Garden, which appeared vacant. We called Pinky to assist us. She would Apparate to the garden first and signal if the coast was clear. I would, then, Apparate to a small alcove at the side of the garden and would venture back into the manor through the main entranceway where several people were mingling, thus appearing as if I had slipped out for some fresh air.

It worked like a charm, and as I entered, heads turned in surprise, and several witches approached looking concerned.

"Are you alright, dear?" they questioned noticing my slightly swollen lips and lack of cloak on a bitterly cold night.

"I'm fine," I assured avoiding their eyes. "I just needed a bit of fresh air."

They nodded understandingly at each other and lifted their heads as Severus leisurely made his way down the spiral staircase, mistletoe free. They turned again to eye me with interest.

"So," one ventured curiously. "How does he kiss?" She finished with a smirk.

I bit my lips together to suppress the chuckle attempting to rise. "As well as he dances," I coyly replied as I casually walked away, the twitter of astonishment following in my wake.


	34. Chapt 33 As One Door Closes

**33 - As One Door Closes**

Adrianne toddled across the living room floor, skilfully manoeuvring around her brothers who were sprawled on their stomachs playing with their new toys. It had been a lucrative Christmas, which was finally beginning to wind down. As the little girl approached, chubby little hands outstretched, she boldly climbed onto my lap and snuggled in with an immense yawn. I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her, stroking back her chestnut curls and pulling her into a loving hug.

Emily and Colin's home was bursting with holiday cheer. The delicious smell of roast turkey with savoury stuffing still lingered from dinner. The massive tree in the living room dominated the front window, shimmering with colourful lights and tinsel. Paper snowflakes hung in the windows, and childish arts and crafts adorned every visible surface. The twins had proudly displayed their handiwork and their new acquisitions when I arrived in the mid-afternoon. Dinner had been served early, and it was now approaching the children's bedtime. As I sat on the comfortable sofa, chatting with Emily, Adrianne's head bobbed and knocked against my shoulder as she struggled to remain awake. She was failing miserably, and finally dropped against my chest as her little hand lost grip from mine. I smiled at the feeling of having a child asleep in my arms, and cuddled her even closer as Emily watched on.

"You really need to find a man," she sighed as she shook her head at me. "What ever happened to…umm, your husband?" she asked cautiously. "Do you still see each other?"

I smiled a tired smile, and nodded slightly. "Occasionally."

"I thought that once you finished school things would get back to normal. Isn't that what you hoped for?" she pressed.

"I'm not sure what "normal" is any more…or even if I ever did. It's hard to explain. We see each other. We talk. We're still in love." I smiled with a wag of my eyebrows, to which Emily's jaw dropped, and she started to laugh. "Unfortunately, now, our jobs keep us apart most of the time, but we get together whenever we can," I replied with optimism.

"If his schedule is anything like yours, I'm not surprised that you hardly see each other, but Daniella, you can't let work take over your life. There's so much more to experience…and you're holding one of them now." She pointed to Adrianne's sleeping form.

I had to agree. This was something that I missed, and it tugged at my heart.

The New Year rang in as I sat alone in the Cumberland safe house, a steaming cup of hot cocoa in one hand and a tin of Honeydukes' finest almond bark in the other. The bark had been a gift from Remus, and it would be death-by-chocolate tonight as I wallowed in self-pity and loneliness. The Potter boy had to remain at the school for the holiday, and thus, so did Severus. Severus had sent a book, _Analytical Research In Modern Medicine_, through the Hogwarts post to the Ministry as a Christmas gift, and I placed my hand on the leather-bound text, feeling the embossed writing under my fingers, a wave of mourning washing over me. He had sent a similar book the Christmas I carried Saxon, and tonight would have been Saxon's fourteenth birthday. My time with Emily's children had made me think of what I had lost. The war had been over for years, but a new one was brewing, and the casualties were already beginning to mount.

I closed my eyes as the tears threatened to flow. Gods, it hurt. I pressed my fist to my chest and took deep breaths trying to stem the flow before I lost control. This was a battle all its own that surfaced from time to time. As I sat by the dying fire, staring out the small frosted window of the study, I silently watched the grey streaks of dawn inch over the dark horizon; a new year with new difficulties was dawning with the rising sun. Pinky had long since gone to bed, knowing there was nothing she could do to ease my pain, but I appreciated her efforts to make me as comfortable as she could. Stiffly rising from the fan-backed armchair, I stretched and toddled down the hall toward the bedroom. A low fire still burned on the grate and a warm flannel nightdress was laid out. Slowly changing, I climbed into bed and snuggled under the down comforter. Pulling the pillow close, I clung to it as I cried myself to sleep.

"Are you certain?" I questioned the Healer on duty. "This potion should have worked. The damage wasn't that bad, theoretically reversible with treatment." My brows crumpled as I reviewed the notations on the chart.

The Healer in question had initially taken offence to my doubting his findings but was beginning to see that it was not directed toward him but more of a surprised reaction.

"Are you at all acquainted with this individual?" he asked as I handed back the folder.

"Only by reputation and by what was on the chart. It was his own spell that backfired, granted with the use of someone else's wand, but still, it was a simple memory charm."

"Maybe memories are not something that can be fixed if broken," offered the Healer.

"Maybe," I conceded. "Have you ever heard the expression, _energies issued out will be returned three-fold_?"

The Healer nodded.

"Maybe his energies were of the negative sort, and now it's payback." I shouldn't have smirked at the possibility, but I couldn't resist. Gilderoy Lockhart was an arrogant charlatan, who took memories from others who had done brave and powerfully magical deeds only to claim them as his own. The Healer couldn't suppress his own smirk as he nodded in agreement. Even in his memory-challenged state, Lockhart was charming but still had the grating air of superiority that simply annoyed the staff.

Wandering the rest of the corridor, the Healer and I checked in on the balance of the patients participating in the study, noting improvement in most. Stopping at one door, I paused, gazing through the small window at the couple inside. Their near-catatonic state tugged at me, and I stood transfixed.

"I'm afraid that they may be beyond help," the Healer said sadly as he also peered through the glass. "_Crucio_," he shook his head. "One of the worst cases I've ever seen. Tortured beyond anything imaginable. They've been here for thirteen years."

"Thirteen years?" I spun my head in disbelief.

The Healer nodded. "Right after the first war. They were Aurors. You-Know-Who's followers were looking for their deposed leader and thought they knew where he was. In the beginning, specialists saw to them, but little could be done. Too much damage. Now, they simply…exist."

I slowly pushed the door open and silently moved in. The man stood staring out the window, almost protectively, while the woman sat in a padded chair, her arms resting limply on the sides, fingers fidgeting with a candy wrapper. Both were pitifully thin and dressed in pastel blue, hospital robes. Their hair was nearly white, and their skin pallid and pasty. Neither acknowledged my entrance.

"Frank. Alice," the Healer announced. "This is Daniella Di Marco. She's a researcher with the Italian Ministry of Magic. She's been working with St. Mungo's to help those in situations like yours."

The couple did not respond.

"Alice." I reached out to the woman first for women contain stronger emotional neural patterns than men. "Alice, may I touch you?" I knelt in front of the woman who shifted her eyes up as I moved into her line of vision. I gently placed my hands over hers, watching her reaction carefully as I emitted a soothing empathic frame of mind. She didn't move. I took a slow, calming breath as the Healer silently watched from near the doorway. Suddenly, a horrific collage of violent images and mental anguish struck me. I gasped at the strength of the emotion, but Alice's face remained impassive as I breathed deeply and slowly released her hands. Moving to her husband, I repeated the procedure, receiving a similar wave of pain and suffering. As I released his hands, I followed his stare out the window. Was there something out there that caught his attention? I saw nothing unusual, just the rainy skyline of Muggle London in the early February evening. Dusk sat on the horizon as the traffic below noiselessly manoeuvred the city streets. Long shadows began to stretch over the adjoining buildings slightly darkening the room. When I shifted my gaze back, and I noticed that he was now looking at me. There was something in his eyes that didn't quite reach his face. Expressionless, he turned toward his wife and sat beside her.

_They're in there_, I thought to myself. _I know they are, but how can I get them out?_

"That was unusual," the Healer noted as we exited into the hallway.

"What was?" I asked curiously.

"They acknowledged you," he replied.

My left eyebrow rose questioningly. A response? Did I miss something?

"Alice let you touch her, and Frank allowed you to stand beside him. It took months before anyone here could do that. And, Frank looked at you." He shook his head and smiled. "Maybe you can do something for them, after all. Maybe you can help."

I nodded very slowly, my mind trying to piece it all together. Maybe.

I was roused from a deep sleep by a loud thud that sounded on the front window of my London flat. Rolling over, suddenly alert, I lay there, listening, as I held my breath. A moment later, a frantic flap sounded against the glass, and Pinky raced into the bedroom.

"Mistress, Mistress," she whispered loudly as if needing me up but not willing to wake me. "Mistress must come quick!" she said dashing from the room as my feet hit the floor, and I reached for my wand on the bedside table. Eyes focusing in the dark, I dove into the living room to find Pinky bouncing up and down at the front window, flapping her hands, positively frantic. Cautiously drawing the curtain back as the thumping and flapping continued, I saw Stark on the other side demanding entry. Opening the window, he flew in on the cool March breeze, circling the room several times before landing on the top of the bookcase.

"Gods, Stark! It's…" I squinted at the clock on the mantle, "three o'clock in the morning! What's wrong?" What I received from him was an icy chill that emanated from the top of my head, plunging to the pit of my stomach, weakening my knees. I crumbled onto the sofa staring up at the bird.

"Stark?" I uttered watching the creature shudder as if freezing to death. "What happened? What can I do?"

He said nothing, empty eyes staring at me.

Gathering my strength, I asked Pinky to fetch a shot glass of mulled cider from the kitchen while I gathered a small, lap blanket from the end of the sofa. I had to stand on a chair to obtain the bird and spoke soothingly to him as I reached to lift him down, untying the black cylinder attached to his leg and placing it on the shelf. Wrapping him in the warm cover, with only his head poking out, I held him close and sat back down on the sofa, my legs curled under while I leaned against the arm. Stroking his head and neck gently, I sent an empathic wave of peace and calm. Eventually, the shivers began to subside, and he took a small sip of the cider. The alcohol would warm him. I tapped the end of the sofa to invite Pinky to sit with us. Her concerned, little face never left the frightened bird as she climbed up.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked quietly, still stroking his neck feathers.

He shivered violently and sent, _Don't send me back_.

"Don't send you back where? Where have you been?" He'd been gone for over a month, and I assumed that he had a girlfriend or family somewhere that he was with.

_There. The castle. Horrible things. Cold. So cold._ He buried his head in the blanket and snuggled close. _I just wanted to come home, to be with you_.

"You're here now. I won't let anything happen to you." I held my friend close in comfort. So, he'd been at the castle and obviously had a run in with the Dementors. Usually, Dementors didn't bother with animals. I wondered what had happened. "Pinky, will you fetch me the chocolate bar in the cupboard, please." Her brows furrowed, but she did as she was asked, returning with a bar of pure milk chocolate. I broke off a small piece and offered it to Stark. "Take a bite," I encouraged. "It'll make you feel better."

I could feel his hesitation as he leaned forward to nibble the confection but as he swallowed, an instant feeling of warmth flooded through him, more rapidly than with the cider. He finished the small square hungrily then looked up. Smiling comfortingly, I rose from the sofa with Stark still nestled in my arms and carried him into the bedroom. Pinky stayed close at my heels. I lay Stark on the bed, still bundled in the blanket and crawled in bedside him. Pinky looked aghast.

"Would you like to join us?" I offered to my other little friend. "He needs us close tonight."

Her tennis ball eyes widened in shock as she shook her head, _no_. I understood her predicament and could sense that she wanted to join us but was bound by her place as house elf. Looking around the room, she found a solution. Climbing into the small armchair in the opposite corner near the door, she curled up pulling my fleece dressing gown over her and smiled satisfactorily from her chosen spot. I smiled back approvingly, laid my head on the pillow, placing my projective hand close to Stark's now-sleeping body, and let my energy slowly seep into my weakened friend.

A flutter and peck on my nose woke me as the early morning sun shone through the edges of the pulled curtains. My eyes slowly opened to spy a sleek, black raven perched on the pile of blanket on the left side of the bed. I lifted my head slightly to look toward the armchair to find that Pinky had already risen, the smell of breakfast was beginning to filter its way down the hall and into my senses.

"I'm glad you're alright." I smiled lazily at the bird as I reached to stroke his back.

He twisted his body and butted my palm to get full contact, then hopped close to my pillow. _Thank you_, he sent.

_What were you doing at the castle?_ I asked empathically. _It's a dangerous place to be at the moment._

_I think I've learned that. What are those things? They're so cold._

_They're called Dementors. They don't normally affect animals. Did you get too close?_ I asked knowing full well Stark's attraction to playing dangerous games.

_Umm, just a bit_, he said turning away slightly.

I let the matter drop. He had learned a valuable lesson and pressing the matter wouldn't change what had happened.

_So, what were you doing at the castle?_ I asked again hoping that he had news.

_I was with the Master. He's having a hard time, and I thought I could help_.

_And, did you help?_ I smiled at the thought of Stark listening to Severus rant.

_I hope so. He talks to me, more like complains. He's frustrated, and there's nothing he can do about it. The wolf-man that you knew before is there, too. He's nice, and he talks to Master like a friend, and doesn't let Master's bad mood put him off. But, other things are going on, too. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it._

I rolled onto my side and propped my head onto my hand. _It feels like something's building up, doesn't it? Like all of a sudden something is going to give way?_

Stark nodded. The school year was coming to an end in a few months, and Sirius was running out of time.

It had been a tough month. The lecture series at Oxford was finally winding down, but new developments had risen at John Radcliffe that demanded my immediate attention. My team at the Ministry was, thankfully, working independently on written research on specific herbal combinations that may enhance the Magpie Potion. I was tempted to introduce the Tridask Thouren to the mix but held back. This plant was banned in Britain because of its volatile properties, and sneaking it in would be too dangerous, although it did seem like the most probable ingredient to use. I hadn't needed this plant in quite a while and wondered if my contact in India still carried it. This may be my excuse to return to Italy for the summer. I smiled at the thought. The last message that I received from Severus was on the night that Stark returned. This had been the first time in years that he had missed our anniversary, and as much as it bothered me, I was consoled by the thought that he had hinted to a rendezvous at "our summer place". My smile turned to a wide grin that drew a few odd looks from my co-workers in the lab. Hmm, something to look forward to.

Minister Fudge fretted as we rode the lift down together. His meagre attempt at small talk failed as he fidgeted with the green bowler hat in his hands. I had surmised that he was on his way to Hogwarts on some rather unpleasant business and would rather be doing something else. As the lift stopped at Level Four, a large burly man joined us, nodding briefly to Fudge, and we continued to the Atrium.

"Is everything set?" Fudge asked the man.

"Yes, Sir," the man replied brusquely.

That was the extent of the conversation, but the feeling of discomfort was massive, particularly from the Minister. I just wanted to get out of there.

The Ministry was chaotic the following morning. People from many departments could be seen fretfully running from office to office trying to issue some sort of damage control. The _Daily Prophet _had wasted no time in publishing _this_ story. No wonder Fudge was so nervous. Sirius Black had been at Hogwarts. Severus had captured the rogue, but before the Dementors could perform the "kiss", Black had mysteriously escaped on a Hippogriff that was due to be destroyed. Not good for the Ministry, and there would be an inquiry as to the events. Severus must be beside himself! I tried to keep out of everyone's way and was glad that my Portkey was reserved already. Luckily, I was considered "beyond suspicion" as the authorities were checking everyone leaving the country. I was looking forward to returning to Rome within a few days.


	35. Chapt 34 Frustration

**34 –Frustration**

Little had changed over the years on the dingy side street of Darjeeling, India: not the selection of dried herbs hanging in the often overlooked storefront nor the demeaning attitude of the male proprietor, although, I must admit, he now tolerated my infrequent visits and seemed to hold a grudging respect for my obvious knowledge of his assortment of plants. Making a quick examination of the new arrivals on display on the wooden shelves outside the shop, I stepped in, the pungent odour of sandalwood almost knocking me off my feet. My shoulder-length hair was neatly pulled back in a low snood that matched the dark red and white sari that I wore, both of which helped keep me cool in the mid-morning heat. The owner was busy with another customer, so I waited patiently by a tall bucket of interesting looking ferns that sat on the floor near a display of bright orange snapdragons. Both men lowered their heads and continued their transaction in hushed tones, occasionally raising their eyes to ascertain if I was listening. When the client left, tucking a brown paper package under his arm and furtively looking in my direction, the owner turned his attention to me.

"It's been a long time," he said with curious indifference. "Did you finally marry?"

I held his gaze for a moment wanting to empathically suggest that he slap himself, but I held my thought. "I'm here on business," I replied with forced calm. "Something that may interest you greatly. Do you still carry the Tridask Thouren?"

"Occasionally," he replied, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "It's been years since anyone has asked for it. I only order it on demand, and as I don't advertise it, there has been little demand."

"I need at least two," I continued professionally. "Would they be difficult to get?"

"It's a dangerous plant," he warned. "What do you need it for?"

I remembered his caution and mistrust and proceeded carefully. "I believe I have discovered a medical use for it. I need to run some tests, and if the tests prove successful, it is likely that my Ministry will approve importation of this plant, which would mean a new business venture for you," I shrewdly pointed out.

I could see the wheels turning in his head as he envisioned possible, future transactions. In either world, Muggle or Wizard, money was a powerful motivator.

"Medicine?" He eyed me with interest. "Only two?"

"For now. The potion is based from another plant, but I believe the Thouren's properties will enhance the mixture, eliciting a desired response." I spoke with expertise. India had become more accepting of women professionals over the years; however, this man was still unaccustomed to females speaking with such knowledge. He barely covered his chauvinism, but surprisingly, yet unenthusiastically, agreed to procure two fruits by the following morning. I had to return.

Bowing slightly, I thanked him and left the shop feeling that I had just begun an exciting new venture of my own. If my hypothesis was correct, the Tridask Thouren would act as a catalyst for the numbing agents in the Magpie mushrooms. With the Thouren's ability to relax and repair nerve stems and the mushroom's ability to modify the coating of the neural pathway, the combination should allow rapid healing of the damaged brain cells, particularly the routes between the cerebrum and cerebellum and their assorted functions. Depending on the extent of the damage, the healing, theoretically, could be as quick as a few weeks or as long as a few years. Crucio-induced injuries were the worst as the Cruciatus Curse aggravated the nervous system to the point where it was difficult to return to normal. Such an injury was neurologically extensive, and Frank and Alice Longbottom were the perfect examples. Their exposure had been long-term, and the damage had been detrimental, leaving them in a perpetual state of neuron firing. Non-essential systems had reacted by shutting down to avoid overloading. As a result, the couple appeared to be nearly catatonic, their functions being as basic as possible. When we first met, I could sense a presence within them, but it was trapped, the path for release blocked by damaged neurons. I was determined to find their way out.

Returning to Pineto, I wasn't completely surprised to find that the old woman who had the apartment below mine had passed away while I was in England. A newly married, young couple had moved in and cordially greeted me as I arrived home. We spoke briefly before I climbed the narrow, wooden stairs to isolate myself for the evening; a quick stop at the corner grocer and the bakery gave me enough provisions for at least a day or two.

Sitting on the terrace, watching Stark bob and dive in the gusty breeze over the Adriatic Sea, I thought how peaceful it was here and how I wished my life could remain this serene. I wanted Severus here with me, away from the stress and aggravation of our jobs, away from a position that he desperately hated, away from …everything. I wanted a life like what we had in Tuscany, but I knew that that would never happen again.

Pinky nudged my elbow and offered a frosty glass of iced tea, placing a plate of biscuits on the side table. I thanked her with a weary smile and returned my gaze to the sea, sighing softly as the sky eased its way from blue to orange to scarlet and finally to indigo. My limbs felt so heavy, and I didn't want to move, finally drifting to sleep on the wicker lounge as Stark lit on the balustrade for the night.

The weeks passed slowly but progressively, and with the help of a talented research team, I had several potions brewing simultaneously. My supervisor wasn't pleased with my purchase and made it abundantly clear that, although he trusted my abilities, this better work, and _only_ if it worked would he speak with the Minister about opening trade for the plant. Carmen, as always, was supportive, and the office hags, twittered about the supervisor's displeasure with his "pet lab rat". It had come to a point where I really couldn't care less what they thought. If they relied on my life to entertain theirs, then so be it. Their lives must be pretty darn pitiful if they needed to watch mine.

"Lei deve scherzare! Lei è sicuro? Lei sa quanto questi costano? Galeoni! Mio marito sarà cosí felice. È tale ventilatore." Carmen was beside herself, stereotypical Italian hand flapping and pacing, her jet-black hair coming loose from the low bun at the back of her neck. She was always so quiet and soft-spoken, but now attracted the attention of those in nearby cubicles. I stood out of her way until she finally settled down, and then I was able to respond.

"No, I'm not joking," I chuckled at Carmen's gibbering and flushed face. "Yes, I'm sure, and yes, I know how much they cost, but I got them for free, a gift from the British Ministry. I know your husband is a fan. You said he's been talking about nothing else for months. Take them. Make him happy."

"Fan?" she exclaimed. "He's fanatical! Oh, he'll be thrilled." After a moment's pause she asked, "Why aren't you going? It's the Quidditch World Cup. Everyone who's anyone will be there, and these are premium seats."

"Don't tell your husband, but I don't follow the game. I grew up in the Muggle world, and sports have never been my thing. Take them. Enjoy." I smiled as I pressed the tickets into my friend's trembling hand.

Truth be told, the only reason for wanting to go was because Severus was going, even though we wouldn't be sitting any where near each other in such a massive stadium. But, my decision to give up the tickets rested with a brief note that arrived this morning by International Owl Post. It reinforced a meeting that I had with Albus before I left England a month ago.

_Our friend may have company soon._

_Please confirm._

_A_

The Quidditch World Cup was still two weeks away, but it looked like I was off to Albania again. It was rapidly becoming my least favourite place in the world.

A quick trip to the Dark Forest proved unsettling. The defensive wards were as strong as ever, and there would be no penetrating them without sending some sort of warning to those inside. However, my empathic scan picked up no unnatural waves beyond the wards. Puzzling. Not the snake and the creature it bore. There was no human form to "help", and this sent a wave of panic to my core. Why hadn't Albus informed me sooner? He knew this could happen when Black escaped. Was I too late? Had Voldemort's servant already come for him? Who was it? The questions reeled as I stood wondering what to do next. I'd have to inform Albus immediately. Stark had refused to return to the castle but may relent knowing that the "cold creatures", as he had referred to them, were gone. Voldemort had been re-born, so to speak, and would need to go through the developmental stages of his life once again, but, at what speed? Or, was there some sort of spell to regain his physical form more quickly? I couldn't think of any off-hand, but then again, this was not my area of expertise. I'd have to ask Albus. My final question: where was Voldemort now?

An unenthusiastic Stark was dispatched to England while I headed to Spain, and while the Wizard world converged on Britain's largest, hidden, sports stadium for the most colossal Quidditch game ever held, I basked in the sun in the private, walled-in terrace of my favourite, Spanish hide-a-way. I knew that Severus would be at the game, but he had confirmed, via a school owl, that he would join me immediately afterward, easily slipping away and disappearing in the crowd. I looked forward to our visit. It was August, and we hadn't seen each other since last December. Our communiqués had been few and far between, and very brief, as always, and he had missed the June symposium at the Society because of the Black mess. My heart went out to him. He had been offered the Order of Merlin, Second Class for the capture of Black, but when Black had escaped, the reward was revoked. Albus said that Severus had been furious, even accusing the Potter boy of somehow being involved. When I asked if he had been, Albus avoided answering, and I knew that Severus had been right. His fury against Black perverted his judgement, and he took his anger out on another foe, letting it "slip" that Remus was a werewolf, thus, pressuring Remus to resign his position: the only one where he felt truly comfortable and accepted. I was livid with Severus when I heard. His grudge was intensified by his jealousy, and it cost Remus his livelihood. It was so unfair. Albus was, also, now convinced of Black's innocence. Severus couldn't let his anger go.

I rolled over feeling the setting sun warm my skin, trying to shake the growing irritation. I was anxious for Severus to arrive and didn't want to ruin it by being in a "mood".

Day turned into night, and the sun rose brilliantly the following morning. I paced the main room of the villa, grumbling to myself, dousing the candles that had burnt to nothing but a puddle of soft, scented wax. Severus was way overdue. I headed to the kitchen nook and made a fresh pitcher of orange juice and a toasted baguette with Gruyere cheese, taking it to the stone patio to eat in the cool morning air. Sitting under the pale umbrella feeling the light breeze, I wondered what could have kept him. Had there been a victory party afterwards? Had he met up with Malfoy and joined him in some activity? I knew they were still in contact. I tossed the bread onto the plate irritably. Our time together was precious, and he had been the one to suggest this rendezvous.

As the day wore on, my irritation turned to anger, and while I paced the tiny, rented villa, occasionally heaving a throw pillow across the room in frustration, fuming that Severus had not arrived…again, and not sent a note…again, I was completely ignorant of the turmoil, fear, and panic that had gripped the Wizard world the night before. While I furiously ranted to the walls about Severus' insensitivity and lack of regard for our limited time alone, I was unaware that he, along with many Order members were frantically trying to assess the devastating situation at the Quidditch World Cup. While I was safe and secure behind wards and stone walls, hundreds of miles away, the Wizard world had experienced its first taste of what was to come. This was just the beginning.


	36. Chapt 35 Halloween

9

**35 – Halloween**

"Auntie Dani! Auntie Dani!" Twin strawberry curls dressed in full Halloween garb dashed down the hallway to greet me as I slipped the black, hooded cloak from my shoulders.

"Guess what I am?" they chimed in concert, spinning to display their costumes.

"Hmm, let me guess," I smiled while examining the homemade attires. Emily had done a wonderful job piecing the outfits together, but I was at a loss to figure out what they were. Speculating, I asked, "Are you cartoon characters?"

"Nnooo," the eldest drawled in indignation. "I'm a troll. Can't you tell?"

"And, I'm a goblin! Grrrr," his brother added, scrunching up his face and growling loudly.

"I'm so sorry," I chuckled softly, trying not to offend them further. "I'm not acquainted with any trolls or goblins. I didn't recognize you. You're very frightening." I tried to appease their injured egos while sounding duly impressed. It must have worked, because the boys trotted off proudly to gather their loot bags from the living room. It was funny to see what Muggles thought of trolls and goblins. The boys looked nothing like the real things.

After a moment, Emily descended from the bedrooms upstairs with a very fussy Adrianne tugging at her costume.

"No!" The little girl screamed, stomping her feet and pulling a funny pointed hat from her head. "No witchy!"

Emily rolled her eyes at me and bent to pick the hat up from the floor. "But sweetie, that's what witches wear."

"No!" the toddler bellowed again. "Yucky!"

"You don't think witches wear hats like this?" I asked taking the hat from Emily's hand and placing it on my head. It was far too small and looked silly, making Adrianne laugh.

"Dani, witchy," she reached for me to pick her up.

"You think so?" I asked, lifting the child into my arms. She nodded as she reached to grasp the hat and toss it to the floor once again. "I take it, you don't like the hat?" I added sardonically as I tried to grab the falling headpiece.

She crumpled her face and shook her head. "No witchy hat."

"What do you think a witch should wear then?" I was curious to see what she would come up with.

She wiggled out of my arms and headed straight to where my cloak hung over the back of a chair. Emily had invited me on the "Trick or Treating" rounds tonight, as Colin was on shift at the hospital, and I wore my cloak as a means of blending into the spirit of the evening. She pulled it down, draping the abundant material around her, nearly getting lost in the black fabric as it pooled on the floor.

"Witchy," she announced proudly, her little face beaming from under the huge hood, while her hand gripped a pencil from beside the telephone and waved it gracefully in the air.

"You think?" I asked trying to hide my surprise at her instinctive actions.

She nodded absently, lost in her "wand-waving".

"I don't have time to make her a cape," Emily fretted, looking at the clock on the wall.

"The boys will be fussing to go soon. Six-year olds have absolutely no patience."

"Do you have any material left?" I asked, an idea brewing in my mind. She nodded and led me to her small, spare room off the main hall that held a mass of arts and crafts supplies, a sewing machine on an old desk, files and old research papers on a scattering of shelves, and a full laundry basket on the floor. The room was the epitome of organized chaos.

"We don't have time," she reiterated, glancing over her shoulder as one of the boys let out a yell.

"Give me ten minutes," I insisted. "It won't be perfect, but it may satisfy your little witch. You keep them occupied, and I'll be out shortly."

Emily nodded reluctantly and scooped Adrianne into her arms while retreating to the living room to the shouts and calls from the wound up twins. I closed the door and turned my attention to the yard of black fabric in my hands. Focusing on the vision of a miniature witch's cloak, the material transfigured into the exact image I had in mind, but it looked like something bought from a store rather than thrown together at the last minute. Focusing again, I removed all of the hemming, leaving the edges rough, then replaced the toggle tie with an odd piece of ribbon. Making the machine hum for a few minutes, I pretended to sew the creation together. When I was "done", I opened the door and headed to where the family was waiting.

"Are we going yet?" the boys complained loudly.

"I think so. Adrianne, is this what you wanted?" I knelt to her level and held up the cloak for her investigation. Her eyes widened with excitement as she clutched the costume and nodded vigorously. I wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and magically adjusted the fit while Emily's back was turned, preparing the boys to leave. Placing the hat firmly on her head, I gave her a "leave it there" look.

Adrianne tilted her head close to mine, our foreheads almost touching, and whispered, "An'i Dani, witchy. Shhhh." She smiled a knowing smile as her hazel eyes bore into mine. _How could she know?_ I thought uneasily_. She's just a child._

The streets were crowded with miniature ghosts and goblins, fairies and witches, comic book characters, and chatting parents. I had never experienced "trick or treating" before, although I had heard of the event, and I watched in amusement as the children raced from house to house, demanding sweets. Within an hour, the loot bags were almost full, and the children wanted to taste their cache. Emily, though, had a strict rule: no eating anything without her checking it first. However, on the way home, she gave in and allowed each child to have a cellophane-sealed lollipop.

As the full moon rested over the tops of the houses, the wind began to pick up, gusting in small whirlwinds at the street corners. It was comfortably cool, and the thought of a hot cup of tea when we got back to the house made me smile. A tired Adrianne held tightly to my hand as the boys excitedly dashed around their mother. I wondered how Emily would get them to sleep without a good, strong Valerian Potion to knock them out. Crossing in front of a closed shop, a gust of wind lifted Adrianne's hat from her head and blew it into the alley. The child ripped from my grip to chase after it, and I chased after her. Entering the narrow lane, I spied Adrianne as she bounced off an unseen entity, landing squarely on her backside. Her lower lip quivered as she tentatively reached out to feel what was…or wasn't… there. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my projective hand instinctively shot out. _"Respingere!"_ Whatever it was flew backward a good six feet at my Italian command, crashing into the dustbins, as I quickly cast a protective shield over the child and myself and dashed from the alley. Adrianne began to cry as Emily took firm hold of the boys and scolded the small child for running off. An odd sensation overcame me, and I instructed Emily to take the children and return home, I would follow shortly. My excuse was that Adrianne's hat was still in the alley. Stealthily re-entering the narrow lane, I cast _"Finite Incantatum",_ and the Disillusionment Charm vanished from the entity that was rising and dusting off.

"What in bloody blue blazes do you think you're doing?" I hissed trying to keep my voice down as the last of the "trick or treaters" and their parents headed home.

"You didn't have a shield up. I could have easily harmed you."

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"That's a different question." He cantankerously folded his arms over his chest.

"Argg. I don't have time for this. What do you want?"

"Are you going to Callanish tonight?"

Funny how he could remember my annual pilgrimage to the Isle of Lewis every Samhain, but couldn't think to send an owl when he couldn't show up to a rendezvous.

"Yes, are you planning to follow me there?" I asked testily.

"No. Albus needs to meet with us. Tomorrow afternoon. You know the place."

My brows furrowed, and Severus watched coolly. It was odd for Albus to call the three of us together. He could see Severus anytime and made arrangements with me separately. I wondered what he wanted.

"I heard that your guests arrived last night, and wasn't the choosing of the champions tonight?" My lips twisted upward slightly. It was all the talk at the Ministry these days. After the events at the World Cup, the Triwizard Tournament seemed to be just the thing to get everyone's minds off of the shock. "Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Interesting combination. Hormones must be running rampant."

Severus snorted derisively. "You have no idea." We stood silently for a moment, the tension like static in the air. We hadn't had a chance to "talk" since the incident in the summer, although, he had finally sent a brief message of regret with the opening line; "I suppose you heard". Yes, I'd heard, but only after several days of aggravation and my return to England. The Ministry was up in arms, and here I thought it had been chaotic when Black had escaped. That was nothing compared to this. The Dark Mark had struck terror at all levels.

"Tomorrow," he repeated dispassionately with a concise nod, and with a "pop", he was gone.

Retrieving Adrianne's hat from the ground, I headed to Emily's. By the time I got there, she had managed to, at least, get the children into bed, the baby falling asleep almost instantly while the boys wanted to continue the revelry. She had put the kettle on, and it was whistling when I entered the house. Removing the pot from the burner, I made the tea and headed upstairs to tell the children "good night". Once the boys were down, Emily and I took our tea to the living room and flopped onto the sofa with weary sighs. Our silence was comfortable, but her eyes fluttered as she struggled to stay awake. With a compassionate smile, I bid my friend "good night" and headed back to my apartment to prepare for the ritual in Callanish.

The monolith circle of Callanish, on the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides, had always been my special place when I was in England. It was a place that I retreated to once a year, on Samhain, to experience the most powerful night in the magical realm. Unfortunately, tonight, with the moon being full, several others had the same idea. The quiet island community hosted a fairly large coven that had decided to hold a rather raucous ritual directly in the centre of the circle that I usually used. Several other individuals and couples scattered through the remaining stones in various stages of ceremony and celebration.

_So much for peace and quiet_, I sighed scornfully as I wandered the meadow, heading toward the bay.

Finding a quiet patch of grass near the edge of the cliff, overlooking a narrow inlet, I could see the estuary to the North Atlantic in the distant, inky night. The breeze howled off the water and up the rocky face, lifting the heavy cloak away from my body, whirling its way up my legs. I let the fresh air fill my lungs, then closed my eyes, drew my wand, and cast the circle. Candles wouldn't have stayed lit in the blustery breeze, but the glow from the circle's aura illuminated my chosen space. Slipping the cloak from my shoulders, I stood naked to the wind, arms and legs outstretched, welcoming the power and the spirits of the night. It was definitely cold but warmth from the ritual filled my soul.

_Gracious Goddess of the night,_

_Join me in this circle site,_

_Praises to the stars and moon,_

_Join me in the circle soon._

_Power and spirit energy flow,_

_Teach me Goddess what you know_.

The aura rose around me, glowing brilliant white at the base but turning pale blue as it rose: the aura of healing, tranquility, comfort. She knew what I needed.

I stood upright, reaching to the moon and stars, praying to the Goddess, allowing the energy from the spirits to enter my soul. It felt good. Balance was being restored.

Finally, spreading the cloak on the ground, I lay on my back, arms and legs equal distance apart, "Vitruvian man" style, and stared at the celestial sky, allowing the sound of the water against the shore and the wind over the ocean to lull me to sleep: the Goddess keeping a protective watch with Her loving aura.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, I thought while pouring a dose of Pepper Up Potion into a glass and drinking it down. The night had indeed turned cold, and the salt air had soaked into my lungs while I slept wrapped in my cloak. I woke in the early dawn with a wet cough deep in my chest. _Wonderful,_ I chastised myself, gazing at my heavy expression in the bathroom mirror, _and me meeting "the boys" this afternoon. _

I had gathered my belongingsin the misty meadow and Apparated to my London flat as the sun rose over the bay. Now, I was preparing to stand under a steaming shower to let the vapours infiltrate my rapidly congesting sinuses. Feeling the heat hit my body, I turned my face to the spray, and as the minutes ticked by, my skin began to prune. Turning off the tap, I quickly cast a Warming Charm, towelled off, and wrapped myself in a cozy robe. Eucalyptus was burning in a small, iron cauldron in the bedroom, and with the door closed; the fumes filled the chamber. This would help loosen the congestion as well. Tumbling under the soft covers of the bed, I hoped that a couple of hours of sleep in the scented room would help relieve the building pressure.

Feeling marginally better as I woke around lunch, I dressed in a thick, cable-knit sweater and favourite black jeans, gathered a few items from the pantry and prepared to leave again, this time to the well-used Cumberland safe house.

The frosty grass in the yard crunched under my feet as I made my way up the path to the heavy, wooden backdoor. The stone house was empty, so I lit the kitchen stove and put the kettle on to boil. Wandering into the study, _"Incendio"_ had a blazing fire in the grate to stave off the dampness and chill. As I examined the collection of books on the shelves (there was always something of interest here) the creak of the back door announced new arrivals. Returning to the kitchen, a deafening sneeze shook the rafters and greeted the men in my life. Both were removing their cloaks, Albus handing his to Severus who dropped it as the shockwave hit. They spun to face a watery-eyed, red-nosed me.

"You were fine last night. What happened?" Severus snapped, finally hanging Albus' cloak on the wrought iron hook behind the door.

"Callanish happened," I responded with an elephant-like blow produced from heavy sinuses.

"Oh dear," Albus' eyes were twinkling. "You didn't do the ritual sky clad, did you?"

My left eyebrow rose in pure Snape fashion, which made Albus chuckle lightly. "Ah, poor Severus. You missed it. It was quite chill last night, wasn't it, dear?" His final statement was directed to me but aimed to attract Severus' attention.

"I was fine until I fell asleep. Damn North Atlantic breeze." I blew my nose again to the renewed chuckle of the old man.

The kettle began to boil, and Severus insisted on making the tea, lest I contaminate the pot. He carried the tray into the study, and we settled into our seats. Albus looked nearly lost in the large, fan-backed armchair, while Severus sat comfortably in its twin. I _"Accio"_d a wing chair from the corner of the room, and we sat, watching each other, in a semi-circle in front of the fire. Small talk was over, and it was time to get to business.

"So, what's this all about?" I was the first to break the silence.

"You know that the Triwizard Tournament is being held at Hogwarts," Albus began. It was more a statement than a question.

I nodded, expressionless, waiting for more.

"And, you know that Alastor Moody is the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

An old contact. Ex-Auror. A bit paranoid but understandable considering what he had been through. Over all, a good choice for the DADA post. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Severus fuming from the depths of his chair at Alastor's name.

"The champions were chosen last night. There are supposed to be three, one from each school represented," the patriarch continued watching me carefully.

"_Supposed to be". _Those words caught my attention, and I glanced briefly at the stony-faced Potions Master. I think my left eyebrow had now receded into my hairline. Wiping my nose again, I calmly prompted, "And…what happened?"

"The goblet spewed forth an additional name…Potter?" Severus nearly spat the Potter boy's name onto the rug. "I don't know how he did it, but he's now contracted to compete in the tournament."

My eyes shifted from a sallow-faced Severus to a very concerned Albus.

"Now, Severus," Albus began. "I understand your feelings in this matter…and toward the boy, however, I truly do not believe that he had anything to do with it. Alastor was right. It would take a skilled wizard to have confused such a powerfully magical object such as the goblet. Harry has not yet acquired those skills. I believe that your…dislike…for the boy has clouded your judgement."

Severus huffed and sank further into his seat.

Albus continued. "I believe that someone put Harry's name in with the intent of having him…not finishing… the tournament. What better way to get rid of an adversary? I have asked Alastor to keep a close eye on Harry this year. This will free Severus to do some investigations outside of the school. I need you, my dear, to keep your eyes and ears open at the Ministry. As you know, a Ministry employee went missing in Albania during the summer. Her connection to Voldemort is unknown. I also need you and Severus to work together. If necessary, shadow him. You two have been…partners…for many years. You're bonded. The link between you is strong and could be vital."

I smiled realising the possibility of spending more time with Severus this year, even though it was "professional". Looking over to my mate, I was met with a scowl fit for an errant first year.

"What?" I demanded. "Does it not please you that we may actually spend some time together?"

"I am against this partnership," he measured carefully. "To shadow me would mean to put you in the utmost of danger. If you were caught, those involved would not hesitate to torture and kill you. You _do_ remember what that feels like, don't you?" He leaned forward, elbows placed on his knees, a scowl deeply etched in his features. " I do not wish to have any part of your being harmed. Albus knows my view, yet insists on the pairing anyway."

"She is the best candidate. It has always been the three of us, and you two are linked. Try it in less volatile circumstances first and see what happens. Daniella is highly skilled in covertness, as you are. Severus, without her, we would know nothing of Voldemort's change or his movements."

"Ah, yes," he sneered. "And, where is the Dark Lord now?" He eyed me with derision.

"I don't know," I whispered, wiping my nose again, a hacking cough beginning to rise from my chest.

"And, no one will hear you coming with such a cough? Did you at least take something for it before coming here to infect us?" he belittled.

"_What_ is your problem?" I finally bellowed, rising to my feet. "I didn't call this meeting. Albus did. Yes, I got sick. Shame on me. I'm human! I…" The irritated cough took over, and my face turned purple, eyes watering, as I struggled to breath. A glass of water was thrust into my fist as large hands spanned across my back, loosening the tight muscles, allowing the bronchioles to relax. Inhaling with a painful wheeze, I could feel the air rush to my deprived lungs, and I took a sip of the water.

"Thank you," I gasped as the back of a hand moved to my forehead.

"You have a fever. You should be in bed." Severus moved to stand before me, feeling my cheeks and looking into my eyes.

"We had a meeting. If Albus called the three of us together, it must have been important. I had to come." The fight had left me.

Severus softened, a look of concern flickering on his hardened face. The back of his long fingers stroked my warm cheek as his obsidian eyes bore into mine. "I left, so many years ago, in order to protect you. Now, I'm asked to invite you to the devil's dinner table. Who knows who will join him? I know that you are capable. I know that you are skilled, but I cannot help but worry. I do not wish to be party to you being injured, and if you are caught, that is sure to happen."

I reached up to gently cup Severus' cheek. "Then we should do what Albus suggested. When you go on lesser…outings, like with those in the lower circle, I could shadow you, be able to see things from a different perspective. That way, if or when you do need me, I'll be prepared and know who the players are."

Severus sighed deeply, knowing that he was fighting a loosing battle and nodded almost imperceptibly.

I smiled lovingly at him.

"Well." Albus clapped his hands together, bringing us back to the moment like an ice cube running down our backs. "Now that that's settled, I suppose I should take my leave and return to our guests. I agree with Severus, my dear, you should be in bed. You do not look at all well. Severus, I expect you to make sure she gets there, and I'll see you at dinner tonight."

Severus nodded his agreement as Albus exited the study. Hearing the backdoor click shut, Severus silently turned to me and led me to the bedroom. Casting _"Incendio"_ in the grate, he pulled the covers of the bed down and ushered me in, tucking the edges of the comforter around my ailing body.

"I'm going to see what potions are in the medicine cabinet. I'll be right back," he stated as long fingers brushed my forehead once again.

My eyes drooped with the warmth of the room and the fever in my body. I never heard him return.


	37. Chapt 36 Living In The Shadows

**36 – Living In The Shadows**

The stillness of the air could only compare with the darkness of the night. No sound. No movement. No moon. Nothing. My breath came in small puffs as I waited, under a Disillusionment Charm, crouched in the shadow of the decrepit structure that could no longer be identified as a building. Two lone stone walls remained standing. How? I couldn't begin to tell. Fallen stones and grooves in the packed earth were the only indication of where the other walls had once been, the sporadic bits of framework showing the possible size of the main room. There was no longer a roof, and the stars shown brightly in the midnight sky. The area was completely isolated. A perfect place to meet. There was a light rustle to my right, and I held my breath, waiting. Something slowly moved through the remnants of the archaic structure.

_How many?_ I asked.

_Three,_ was the reply.

_Where?_ I was looking for a direction to go in.

_One is to your right, by the entrance. The other two are near the fire pit, in the centre_.

_Where are you?_

_By the far wall between the two._

_Don't move. I'm going for the one by the door. _Remaining crouched, I crept along the wall, silently moving toward a narrow opening that constituted the entrance of the structure. With the opening in sight, I took a chance. _Petrificus Totalus_. My target froze in position, facing the entrance as if making ready to leave.

_The others? _ I asked efficiently.

_Still by the fire pit_.

_Can you move without being noticed?_

_No._

_Are they facing the door?_

_One is._

_Damn_, I thought,_ so much for the circuitous approach._

I took a quick peek around the edge of the doorframe, spying the next targets in the centre of the structure. Severus was against the far wall, his Disillusionment Charm blending him into the stone, but unable to move without rustling the long grass, attracting attention.

_You take the one on your left. I'll hit the other from behind. On the count of three. One, two, three…Petrificus Totalus._

_Stupefy._

My target froze on the spot while Severus' yowled as it flew through the air, landing unconscious near the wall where I had originally been.

"What did you do that for? That wasn't necessary!" I chastised as I openly strode into the room, casting off the charm.

"Nothing a quick "_Envernate"_ and Memory Charm can't handle," Severus reassured indifferently, dispersing his own charm.

"The poor cat!" I tsked shaking my head, going over to check its condition. For the past month, we had been meeting in various locations, testing our prowess and teamwork with a variety of creatures.

"They didn't notice me by the wall and didn't hear or sense you coming. A cat's sixth sense is difficult to evade, more so than a human's. The modifications made on the Disillusionment Charm worked well."

I nodded and covered a yawn. "It's late. I think that's enough for tonight. I have to be at St. Mungo's in the morning."

Severus moved to end the spells on the two Petrified cats, quickly casting Memory Charms before they bolted from the structure. I Envernated the third cat, casting my own Memory Charm before it leapt over the wall to parts unknown.

"I think we should move on to people," I suggested. "Animals and other creatures are one thing, but it will be humans that we'll eventually be dealing with."

Severus frowned and draped his arm over my shoulder as we left the practice location. "Where do you suggest? London? With Muggles?"

"That's a possibility," I replied thoughtfully. "Do you know of any meetings coming up? Maybe at Malfoy's?"

Severus shot me a glare, his thin lips pressed tightly together.

"Even when you don't tell me things, there are times when I suspect anyway," I warned.

"There is something coming up, but I don't want you involved, not until I know more," he cautioned. He unconsciously rubbed his left forearm against my shoulder.

"It's been a long time since you've done that," I pointed out to a puzzled expression. "Your arm. The mark. You rubbed it. How strong is it?"

"It's uncomfortable but not strong."

"When did it begin?"

He paused; jaw clenching, and I put my hand out to stop him.

"When?" I asked again, firmly.

"I first noticed it in the summer. It began to darken, and then right before the Quidditch World Cup, it began to…twinge. It has been getting progressively stronger, but is still not to the intensity that it was when "he" was at full power."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I wish you'd told me sooner. Have you told Albus?"

"Yes. He's been informed. It would appear that "he" has been calling his servants, and if I'm feeling it, so are the others." It was his turn to shake his head. "It's one thing to play games and build confidence in your skills. It's another thing to have to put those skills to use in potentially dangerous situations. I don't want you hurt."

I'd heard that line over and over again. It could have been my new mantra. "Severus, this is what we were meant to do. It's all part of the "grand plan". Injury is inevitable. How many times have you suffered at Voldemort's hand? How many times have you felt _Crucio_? There was once a time when I couldn't brew the Cruciatus Reduction Potion fast enough, and you always had to have a bottle on hand."

"Start brewing it again," he advised acerbically.

We reached the edge of the meadow, by the low stone wall that ran for miles through the field. I was tucked comfortably under Severus' arm, my own wrapped around his waist. Turning to face each other, we could barely make out our features in the darkness. His hand rose to touch my face, and I stretched to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

"I love you, caro. Never forget that," I said as I gave him a quick hug.

He returned the hug with crushing force. "You are my rock, cara. You are what keeps me going," he whispered into the crook of my neck.

Releasing each other, we took a step apart, fingers touching lightly.

"Let me know where to go next," I instructed.

He nodded sullenly and took another step back. "Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again," I repeated, and with simultaneous "pop"s, we both Disapparated into the night. If we were lucky, we may get a couple of hours of sleep before our day jobs began.

The week passed quickly, as did the next, and the one after that. I'd had no word from Severus, and we were, now, into December. I was anxious to practice again.

On a routine business trip to Diagon Alley for supplies, I decided to play a little game of cat and mouse with the early holiday shoppers. I would pick a target and disappear in the crowd, following the unsuspecting bargain hunter until he or she had reached their goal, or I tired and moved onto someone else. Sometimes, I would get close enough to playfully shift their bags around or hear them mutter to themselves about what they needed to remember. This went on for a good part of the afternoon, and as I was preparing to head back to the office with my purchases, I spotted an irresistible target emerging from Gringotts. Casting the modified Disillusionment Charm that reduced the residual shimmer and dampened my empathic vibrations, I glided through the crowd and took up position a couple of feet behind. My target made his way, effortlessly through the busy street, not stopping to investigate the brightly coloured shop windows or nod acknowledgement to acquaintances. He seemed to be on a mission. Keeping a steady pace as he neared the Leaky Cauldron, he was joined by two other men who fell into step on either side. They were an imposing trio, and I could feel the hair on my arms begin to prickle. They passed easily through the street, the crowd unconsciously parting before them, and when they reached a menacing side street, the man in the centre disappeared from my sight, his space containing merely a familiar reflective gleam.

The alleyway was dark and dreary. Hags and warlocks begged from dingy doorways as large, grey, street rats scampered through the trash in the gutter. The lane was made of packed dirt rather than the clean cobblestone of Diagon Alley, and merchants sold a variety of questionable items. The oppressive sensation seemed to permeate even from the cracks of the wretched buildings. The men stopped before what could only be described as a "house of ill-repute" and were greeted by a scantly clad, buxom witch with cheaply coiffured hair. She smiled at the two visible men, displaying a gold front tooth, and ushered them in. I was close enough to slip in behind them before the door was closed. They knew which direction to go as the witch simply waved her hand toward a bright red door at the rear of the garishly decorated main room which held a variety of witches in various stages of dress…or undress. The candlelight was bright enough to display the wares, but I feared the unsteady glow would have a negative effect on my charm. The men ogled as they lumbered their way through the chamber but, luckily, moved quickly enough that no one noticed any possible remaining shimmer. My heart was beginning to race. _What have I gotten myself in to?_

The Red Room was no larger than ten by ten feet with an oil lamp chandelier hanging from the ceiling over a rectangular meeting table. A variety of men and women raised their heads when the entourage entered, eyes searching for what wasn't visible. I strengthened the Disillusionment Charm and had a definite feeling of a dread that I had stepped into something that I shouldn't have. I recognized some of these people: McNair from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, one of the men who I had followed was suddenly recognized as one of my abusers from when I was attacked and "killed" at nineteen, Crabbe, I think. There were a few other faces as well, some from the Ministry, some from events that I had attended, and then there was Severus, standing ominously behind his curtain of lank, black hair, his back firmly planted against the far wall, staring crossly in my direction. He sensed me there, and I felt ill.

A chair invisibly shifted at the head of the table and heads turned toward the scraping sound. A Disillusionment Charm was released to display an elegant man in his late thirties or early forties with long white-blond hair adjusting immaculately tailors robes as he gracefully sat in the heavy, padded captain's chair, placing a silver-topped walking stick across the edge of the table in front of him. I moved behind a burly man in a non-descript, brown, work robe in the unconscious attempt to better conceal myself from the group. Struggling to keep the panic from overtaking my thoughts and the bile from rising in my stomach, I stood, motionless, against the wall by the door.

Malfoy called the meeting to order by lifting the left the sleeve of his robe, exposing a repulsive black skull and snake brand. The others followed suit, displaying their left forearms for all to see. Malfoy's smile was of menacing satisfaction. His eyes narrowed, and I took a very deep, steadying breath.

"The time will soon be upon us." His drawl was one I could never forget. "Each of us has received the sign, some proved their loyalty this summer."

Many of the members grunted and nodded admission.

"Those who have remained loyal and have proven that loyalty will be received back into the fold without hesitation," he continued arrogantly, as if he knew more than the others. "The Dark Lord is getting stronger. He will need our support. Those who have followed me in his absence will be rewarded for continuing his work."

Several stood or sat straighter, proud of their allegiance. Severus remained unmoved by the far wall, his arms crossed over his thin chest.

As Malfoy addressed each member, he asked for a progress report, for lack of a better term, on what they had been doing in the Dark Lord's name. Some stories were of gruesome acts of violence against Muggles and Muggle-borns, while others were of espionage within the Wizard world itself. In some instances, Malfoy was not pleased, and the member fell to a quick _"Crucio",_ but in most instances, he remained impassive. Severus was the last to speak. He had not looked at me the entire time and didn't dare glance my way now.

"Dumbledore is preoccupied with the events of the Triwizard Tournament. He is a doddering old fool who spends much of his time entertaining the officials and tending to the visiting schools. Yes, he was concerned about Potter being involved in the tournament but has delegated the safety of the situation to Alastor Moody. The man is as mad as a hatter and quick to suspect anyone who remotely appears suspicious, including myself."

"He doesn't trust you?" Malfoy dripped with cynicism.

"He doesn't trust anyone," Severus replied coolly.

"But, Dumbledore trust you. After all, you turned." Malfoy eyed Severus with malevolence.

"How better to know our enemy than to live with it? Dumbledore knows nothing, and so it will remain."

"Good." Malfoy's pale lips turned slightly upward in satisfaction.

"One last item," Severus continued. "Igor Karkaroff is Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute and is presently at Hogwarts."

There was a murmur through the group.

"He in nervous and very concerned about The Dark Lord's return," he finished.

"As he should be," one member shouted out.

"Traitor!" another bellowed. "He should have been fed to the Dementors."

Malfoy's lips turned upward in the ghost of a smile. He seemed pleased with the anger brewing in the group. It formed a unity amongst the members, a common enemy revealed.

A few more instructions were given, and the meeting was adjourned. As luck should have it, the man who opened the door first paused to speak with a colleague, and I was able to slip though the crack and head for the main entrance. Reaching the foyer, I was forced to wait for someone to open that door as well, but it seemed that I might have to wait a bit longer. As the members exited the Red Room, several made stops to inspect the merchandise on display, stroking a breast or allowing themselves to be fondled. Malfoy stood within the doorway of the room quietly speaking with Severus and brushed off an approaching brunette who turned her attentions to my husband. He scowled at her, but she laughed openly and reached for his crotch, cupping him with a seductive smirk. Malfoy twitched an indifferent smile, patted Severus on the arm with his cane, cast his Disillusionment Charm and disappeared into the crowd. I hid behind a coat tree by the doorway to avoid any possibility of being bumped into, watching Severus with this tart. At first, he tried to stop her aggressive approach by grabbing her wrist and pushing her back, but she held onto his hand and pressed her body against his, encouraging him on.

"It's free, if you want it." She slithered against him while backing him into the wall. She wasn't terribly attractive, but her lithe body knew where to press.

"Come on, Snape," McNair encouraged while a blonde witch straddled his lap. "What kind of man are you? I don't think any of us have ever seen you with a woman. Merlin! She's offering herself. Free! Where are your balls?"

Scornful laughter rose from the members who remained.

"And, where is your wife, McNair?" Severus chided to the man who had his nose buried in the cleavage of the blonde.

The robust man pointed to a melange of both men and women in various stages of undress on the centre rug. There was such of mass of arms and legs that one couldn't tell whose were whose, but a slim arm rose over the group, waving, as the black-haired woman writhed under the groping hands of the participants.

Severus rolled his eyes, and the brunette recommenced her attack, unbuttoning his trousers and working her way down. Severus furtively glanced around the room and noticed that he was, indeed, being watched. I noticed, too. He had two choices: go through with it or push her away and risk the fallout afterward. He didn't know that I was still there, and I wasn't about to enlighten him, having blocked my empathic connection to him. Watching from the hidden position by the front door, I observed this woman expertly bring my husband to climax. He never closed his eyes as he watched her draw out his seed, and when she was done, she smiled seductively at him from her kneeling position, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, only to be surprised by his abrupt push as he stepped back to adjust himself and do up his trousers. Striding toward the door, he had to circumvent the orgy in the centre of the room, giving them an unobserved contemptuous glare as he fumed past, bursting through the exit and stalking into the night.

Deciding to see what he would do next, I slipped out in his wake and followed. After a few sullen shots of Firewhiskey at a local tavern, he angrily Disapparated. With that move, I could no longer track him, so I headed home. It was late now, and I was still lugging around the supplies for work. I'd have to bring them in tomorrow.

My apartment was dark when I arrived, and as I reached the front door, my Protective Shield registered a force rapidly approaching from the rear. Spinning, ready to fight off an attacker, Severus came into view at the last moment, releasing his Disillusionment Charm and the Reverse Glamour Charm while extinguishing the porch light. I was thrust, hard, against the door, knocking my head, and assaulted with a bruising kiss. The ward on the door recognized my befuddled command to open, and we stumbled in, his urgency and distress obvious. Staggering backward into the dark entranceway, he forcefully pushed the cloak from my shoulders as I dropped the supplies onto the floor.

"Only you. Only you," sounded like a whispered mantra as he lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Bedroom," he muttered as I pointed down the short hallway to the right of the sitting room. He had never been to my apartment, fearing for my safety, but at this moment, he knew where most of his compatriots were, and by this time, I had caught on to his intent and was planting small kisses over his neck and face while he carried me off. By the time we reached the bedroom, I could feel him hard against my pelvis, and as I released my legs to stand, I ran my finger along the long row of frockcoat buttons, releasing them all at once. He shivered at my touch and nearly ripped the shirt from my body.

"Rough night?" I gasped as we tumbled onto the bed.

He nodded as he struggled to remove my pants. I had cast _Occlumency_, not wanting him to have to deal with the knowledge that I knew what had happened, and as the pants were cast to the floor, I sat up and reached for his.

"No." He stood on his knees abruptly pushing my hand away, his face clouded, eyes dark pools in a lost sea. Standing to the side of the bed, he took the trousers off himself. By now, his urgency had faded slightly, and he was beginning to relish the moment. Crawling onto the bed and edging himself between my legs, he kissed me slowly and fully, finally savouring the moment. Reaching to lift my knee around him, he shifted slightly, raising himself onto straight arms, watching my face change as he gradually filled me, my eyes closing in trust and confidence.

"This is who I am," he whispered to himself through the motion. "Only for you."

"I love you," I whispered my assurance, wrapping my right leg around his hip, pulling him closer as I felt the heat rise from my abdomen to my cheeks as the motion became more intense.

His eyes never left my face as he ground into me, deep and hard, and I could feel that he was burying more than simply himself, he was burying the memory of the evening.

"Let it go," he encouraged as he felt my internal muscles begin to contract. "I want to see you let it go." His rhythm increased as we moved steadily together.

A red aura radiated from my body like a heat wave as the climax rose and released with a reverberant groan. Severus followed, arching on straightened arms above me, pushing deep, then lowering gently onto his elbows for a moment's rest, letting himself relax in the warmth of contracting uterine walls, my legs wrapped lovingly around his hips. Finally rolling to one side, he purposefully pulled me under his arm, reaching with the other to envelop me in a protective hug.

"Ti amo, cara. Ti amo." His words were barely audible.

"Ti amo, caro," I returned kissing his chest and curling my arm across his torso to stroke the fine black hair. The Italian words taking him to another place, another time.

In the darkest hours before dawn, Severus shifted in the bed, rolling to his right to stroke my exposed shoulder. Feather-light kisses drew a line from the warm blade to the tricep and back, and as his arm reached forward, he spanned his hand over my abdomen, tenderly pulling me back against him. I could feel him flex gently against my buttocks, and in a dream-like state, I rolled to face him.

"I have to go," he murmured softly. "Will you be at the Society's Yule celebration next week?"

"Will you?" I asked sleepily.

He inhaled deeply and replied, "I certainly hope so. I have a request."

My eyebrows rose questioningly.

"Do you still have the royal blue silk robe? The one with the lace bodice and bell sleeves?"

"You remember my wardrobe?" I smirked from my warm confines.

"That one. Yes," he answered with his own smirk. "If I recall, you wore it years ago with a lovely sapphire drop necklace that rested about…here." He drew a line down my cleavage, stopping between the breasts, then moved to cup one, kneading softly, then bending to suckle the rising bud. I arched slightly to increase the contact, moving my hand to trace the line of his spine, while his hand moved to tweak the other nipple.

"I thought you had to leave," I asked dreamily, enjoying the sensation.

"I do," he assured as he slowly diverted his attention to the other side.

"It's not going to happen any time soon if you keep that up," I warned playfully.

I could feel him smile against my skin as he shifted, suckling a line from my chest to my navel and back.

Gently pulling his shoulders, trying to persuade him to face me, he lifted onto his elbows with a serious look. "Do you know how much danger you were in last night?" he asked without malice.

I nodded sheepishly.

"Why?" he enquired quietly.

"The opportunity presented itself, and he was too irresistible a target. I didn't think it would go that far," I replied. "Then, I was caught in the situation that I couldn't get out of."

"Not very smart. You must always think, be on guard," he instructed.

I could see the mood beginning to fade with his concern. "Make love to me," I encouraged sweetly, lifting a knee invitingly, running my hand over his hip and thigh, reaching to guide him in. This time, he allowed the touch.

His eyes closed. "Talk to me," he whispered as he shifted over me, still wanting, needing to be in control.

"You are my only love," I whispered back. "The beat of my heart, the blood in my veins, my other half."

The act was loving and tender, sweet and heartfelt. We were one: heart and soul, mind and body, and when we were done and rested, Severus sat on the edge of the bed pulling his trousers on while I remained under the warm covers with his scent still lingering on my skin.

"Promise me something." He paused while buttoning his starched white shirt. "Promise that you will never do anything like that again."

I sat up and place my hand between his shoulder blades. "I'll not make a promise that I might not be able to keep, but I can promise this: I promise to be more careful, to use my head and not be led astray by curiosity. My shield was up, and I was careful…"

"But, I had asked you not to get involved yet, and you did." He turned his haunting eyes to me.

"It was not my intent. I was merely testing my skills as I had been all afternoon. As I said, seeing Malfoy was an unexpected opportunity to great to resist."

His lips pressed together in a thin line, but he said nothing, simply leaned to kiss me tenderly on the lips and stand to leave.

"Save me a dance?" he asked changing the subject with a playful twitch of his lips.

I smiled broadly. "I'll bring the mistletoe."

He rolled his eyes. "You'll be the scandal of the Society. I'm a bad influence, or haven't you heard? I have a reputation to uphold."

"Consider it an annual event. Once a year. Let the idle minds chatter." I waved my hand as it to fend off negative energy.

Severus smiled and shook his head. "I think you're the bad influence," he chided amusedly. "Good night, cara. Sleep well, and be safe," were his parting words as he headed for the door.

"And you, mi amoure," I responded as I watched him leave.

Resetting the wards and curling back down under the still warm covers, I inhaled deeply the lingering scent of his body and our love. This promised to be a good year.


	38. Chapt 37 The Time Has Come

**37 –The Time Has Come**

The Head of Research at John Radcliffe Hospital sullenly sat on the opposite side of the modern white and chrome boardroom table. Three hospital administrators sat to his right, in sturdy chrome chairs, flipping through the stack of papers in front of them. I waited patiently for them to speak. This had not been an easy decision but one that was ready to be made. My time was up.

In the ten years that I had been involved with the hospital, both as a doctoral candidate and then as a granted researcher, I had succeeded on many levels. New doors had been opened in the study of intracellular transmission systems, not only in their connection to cancer but to other disorders and illnesses as well. Several new treatments had been produced and patented for the handling of chemotherapy side effects, and two highly successful and recorded treatments had been created for the management, and to some degree cure, of two forms of lymph node cancer. There would always be research to be done. It was a field and a disease that seemed to keep growing, but I felt that I had achieved my goal, and then some, and it was time to move on. I had presented the hospital with a proposal, that they were now reviewing, that offered my services as consultant should they need it.

The hospital director closed his folder and sat back in the sculpted chair, staring thoughtfully at the documents before him. The others followed suit.

"I must say, I'm sorry to see you go. Your accomplishments here have been significant," he began, looking up. "But, I believe I understand how you feel. The demands on your time must be extraordinary. You do intend to continue research." This was both a statement and a question.

"Yes," I replied quietly. "I've begun several projects but one that requires more immediate attention. I feel I have gone as far as I can with the lymph node research. The team is more than capable of handling it on their own, and you have some excellent new members who have wonderful ideas."

All of those at the table nodded in agreement. They knew I was right.

"It was very generous of you to offer to stay as a consultant," the Head of Research voiced. "Does this mean that you will be remaining in England?"

I smiled sadly. "I will be between England and Italy but can be reached without difficulty at the address attached to the folder."

There was a consensual nod.

"Gentlemen, if all is said and done, I'll take my leave. It was both an honour and a pleasure to work with you. Have a very happy holiday season." I stood and reached my hand in parting to the men as they came around the table to shake my hand and wish me luck.

"Will you still be guest lecturing at Oxford?" the director asked cordially.

My smile broadened. "I think I've become a fixture there. I'm scheduled for two series in the New Year. They're short, but on a subject that I've lectured many times."

The Society's Manor House was bedecked in its usual holiday splendour with evergreen bows and holly berries, silver and gold ribbons and garland. Frosted orbs lit the well-trampled path from the Apparition Garden to the house, and the open doors welcomed guests with carolling house elves.

Pinky had been at the Manor all afternoon helping prepare for the evening, and as I climbed the wide flagstone steps, she greeted me at the top with a wide grin, a cheery sprig of greenery pinned to the front of her apron.

"Mistress is beautiful," she breathed and then leaned closer. "But, Master is not arrived yet," she continued comically out of the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you, Pinky," I whispered with a grin as I entered the foyer and slid the cloak from my shoulders. I had honoured Severus' request and dug the royal blue robe from the recesses of my wardrobe. It had been many years since I had worn it, and it needed to be magically adjusted. Oh, how the body changes as we get older. The sapphire necklace sat perfectly on the line that he had drawn, nestling comfortably between my breasts.

Greeting Chairwizard Castwell and Master Whitherling at the reception room door, I enquired about the Master's wife and new child.

He beamed proudly and nodded. "Fine. The boy is growing like a Skwert in spring. Poor child has a cold so Maris stayed home tonight." Eyeing my attire, he continued, "You look lovely this evening, dear. Are you expecting anyone special?" He shot a smirk to Chairwizard Castwell.

I grinned mischievously, flirtatiously batting my eyes that reflected the blue of the dress. "Maybe."

"I seem to recall last year's…incident…with the mistletoe." The Chairwizard smiled roguishly. "Andrew says that you and Snape have a history, something about during his apprenticeship in Italy?"

"Really? Is that what you heard?" I answered giving Master Whitherling a playful "evil eye". "That was a long time ago."

"And, the dance? You two do move well together," Master Whitherling added with a nudge in my direction.

"Oh, now, the dance was entirely your fault." I shook a finger humorously at my old colleague.

"How so?" His brow creased innocently.

"You set the precedent. You dared him to dance with me one year, and now, he feels that it's an annual event." I threw my hands to the air in mock defeat.

Master Whitherling laughed. "Fine, I'll take the blame. At least, he doesn't bark at you."

"No, he just snarls. You'll save me a dance though, won't you?" I invited.

"Of course," he agreed as I moved into the bright lights of the hall.

The evening passed slowly, but the music and camaraderie was wonderful. I danced with a variety of wizards, including, of course, the one that always seemed to seek me out, but at least the leering had stopped, and he stayed off my feet this year. As he was about to request a second dance, Merlin be praised, a saving voice resounded behind me, and my present partner backed away with a smirk.

"I believe this dance is mine." The baritone purr was like melted chocolate to my ears, and I was hard set not to grin openly at hearing it. It was getting late, and I was beginning to lose hope.

Turning to greet my husband, I curtseyed as the music began and reached my arms to the waltzing stance. His face was set in a softened scowl, eyes narrowed as if dancing with me was a chore, but he moved with the grace of an eagle on the breeze: strong and confident, allowing the currents of the music to flow through his limbs.

"I _do_ like that necklace," he whispered as we moved around the floor, the edges of his lips curving up almost imperceptibly.

"How long can you stay?" I asked as we came together after a turn.

"Not long. Malfoy is having a gathering tonight. My attendance is required."

I lowered my head in an understanding half nod.

As we stopped, his fingers slid down my arms and grasped my hands for a split second. A flicker of puzzlement, then recognition crossed his face. "I never noticed before, you still wear the ring." His eyes shone brightly belying his stony expression.

Severus had given me an onyx and silver ring for Valentine's while I was working on my doctorate. He had promised that, one day, I would wear a ring on the proper finger, but for now, this one never left the little finger of my left hand. I smiled sweetly at my husband before he noticed the watchful eyes of the crowd. Inhaling sharply and bowing curtly, he turned abruptly and strode to the refreshment table. I smiled again and shook my head as I turned toward the cooler entrance hall.

"What? Not waiting for the mistletoe this year? Don't blame you," a Mistress teased as I passed.

I glanced quickly over my shoulder to spy Severus downing a glass of champagne, all but ignoring the aging Master who had decided to impart some ancient wisdom upon him. I could almost feel his teeth grind with impatience as the old man spoke.

We didn't get to dance again, and Severus left before the mistletoe made its appearance. I made a quick exit not long after that and headed for the comfort of my small apartment.

We had communicated briefly through the evening, Severus explaining that he was required to attend the Yule Ball on Christmas day but hinted that I was to keep an eye on the Ministry post. I informed him that Mr. Crouch had not been in the office for most of December. His assistant, Percy Weasley, had taken over in his absence. This information concerned Severus, and we wondered what had happened. Beyond that, there was little else that could be done, except wait and play our roles.

December's chill turned into January's blustery cold. Severus allowed me to shadow him to Malfoy's New Year's party only to proceed to a private "party" of our own at the Cumberland safe house in the wee hours of the early New Year.

The first week back for classes saw me at Oxford prepping the final-year Masters students with a comparative series on the functions of MRI and CAT scans in the study of brain disorders.

For the balance of January and into February, I was back in Italy, touching base with the studies being led there. Both the British and Italian Ministries were being co-operative in sharing results and everything was running smoothly. This had been the happiest and most comfortable I had been in years. I had missed Pineto, and the peaceful sound of the sea against the shore was soothing to my fraying nerves.

Finally, in early March, I received an owl from Albus, the first communication I had had from him since November. An older, brown speckled, barn owl landed heavily on my narrow windowsill of the London flat and pecked politely on the glass. Opening the window, the bird flew in gracefully and skidded to a halt on the kitchen table, dropping his missive beside my breakfast plate before helping himself to a bite of toast.

"Cheeky, aren't you?" I tilted my head at the brazen bird.

He spun his head, in the odd way that owls do, to examine me with age-old eyes.

I recognized the seal on the parchment and broke it as I unfolded the brittle paper.

_Something has come up._

_Usual place._

_One-thirty today._

_AD_

"Never a dull moment", I thought aloud while thanking the bird and escorting it to the window. I had work today and was on a roll with the new potion that the team was working on. I wondered how was I going to explain having to leave early.

The rain pummelled the overgrown backyard of the safe house, and my shoes were soaked by the time I opened the heavy, back door. Shaking the water from my cloak, I hung it on the hook, kicked off the sodden shoes, and gave them and my feet a quick drying spell before venturing further.

Albus appeared in the kitchen doorway, dressed in a midnight blue robe with grey trim, mirroring his solemn mood. His crooked fingers toyed with his long, silver beard as he stood waiting for me to finish drying off.

"Tea has been prepared," he said gravely as he turned to sidle back to the sitting room, expecting me to follow.

"This must be serious," I began, obeying the silent command. "You usually give me more notice." I padded behind him half expecting my socks to still leave wet imprints on the wooden floor.

"I'm afraid Severus would be angry if he knew, but you need to be aware." He gently lowered himself into one of the large armchairs. "And, you must _not _divulge this conversation to him. He is focusing on another situation at the moment, and I'd rather he not be distracted." His order was gentle but firm.

A secret from Severus? "What is it?" I quietly demanded.

"Sirius is back. He is staying near Hogsmeade to help keep an eye on Harry." Albus watched my expression closely.

I inhaled deeply, slowly, and steadied my voice. "I agree. Severus must not know. Is there anything specific you want me to do?"

"No. I felt you needed to know that he was close and on our side." I nodded as he paused to change the subject. "Has there been any word about Mr. Crouch?"

My brow creased, and I had to ask what had been bothering me. "Why have you asked me to keep an eye on this? It's nowhere near my field, and I know that you have others at the Ministry besides me?"

Albus gave a half nod. "Yes, but it's always good to have many pots on the fire, that way you can compare results."

I nodded in understanding, and continued, "He's still absent, but I've done some investigating. Did you know that since taking his present position, he hasn't taken a sick day? Others have noticed and have taken interest, and the notes that he's been sending to Percy Weasley are now under investigation." Albus' eyebrows rose questioningly. "You didn't hear this from Arthur?"

"I'm afraid young Mr. Weasley has become estranged from his family, choosing work over blood." He shook his head sorrowfully.

"The rumour is that he has finally cracked under the pressures of his job and life. Didn't he used to be Head of Magical Law Enforcement during the first war? Wasn't his son tried as a Death Eater? Crouch is an ambitious man. He must have lost a great deal with that. Maybe everything finally caught up with him?"

"Maybe, but I don't see it. Bartemius Crouch is an exceptionally strong individual. You see, he sentenced his own son to Azkaban." I shook my head at the prospect. "I was at the trial. Difficult thing to see. A man begging for his life only to have his father reject him. The boy died a year later." Albus stared at his entwined fingers regretfully. "No, I believe there is more. I believe that the disappearances of Bertha Jorkins, Bartemius Crouch Senior, and a Muggle named Frank Bryce are somehow connected." He paused for a moment, drifting slightly. "Daniella," he said thoughtfully. "I have a hunch and need your services. I need you to go to a small town in Northern England, Little Hangleton. Feel it out."

"And, what do you expect I'll find? Frank Bryce, whoever he is?"

"Possibly, but I doubt it." He shook his head slowly. "Little Hangleton is Tom Riddle's home. Mr. Bryce was the Riddle's groundskeeper."

"You think Riddle, Voldemort, went home?" I questioned in astonishment. "Of course, I'll go." I was eager to find out where this adversary was. I was tired of being one step behind.

Albus nodded his head with satisfaction. He knew that he could count on me.


	39. Chapt 38 And So Rises The Dawn Of Fate

**38 – And So Rises the Dawn of Fate**

The chill March air hung thick with a valley mist, and as evening began to set in, so did the fog. It had been nearly a week since Albus' impromptu visit and the soonest that I could get away. Prior to leaving, I researched the archives of local, Muggle newspapers to find out as much as I could about what I was getting into and had a feeling that Albus was right. Frank Bryce had been the Muggle caretaker at the Riddle family home and had been the prime suspect in the mysterious deaths of the family many years earlier. He had been acquitted of the crimes and still maintained the grounds for an unknown wealthy proprietor, but he had disappeared, without a trace, one night last summer shortly after Voldemort left Albania.

Keeping to the shadows, I stealthily made my way toward the large, abandoned house on the hill that overlooked the sleeping village. The grounds had been immaculately kept at one time but were now overgrown with weeds and tall grass. Windows had been broken, and the front door hosted a sign, probably warning trespassers of the consequences of being on the property. I couldn't read it from my distance. A familiar, ominous feeling pulsated from the grounds. There was definitely a sinister magical presence. Circumventing the terrain, I thoroughly tested the wards. They were strong, like those in the last days of Albania, and I feared that breaching them would raise an alarm to those inside, so I gathered as much information as I could from the perimeter and returned to the opposite side of town to Apparate. Albus would get the first report tonight.

The following weeks saw me balance the final series at Oxford, the Magpie research at the Ministry and its subsequent trials at St. Mungo's, and Albus' "task". I found that I was functioning on no more than three to four hours of sleep a night, and although I was becoming edgy and irritable, my body was becoming accustomed to the deprivation. It seemed that when I did have time to sleep, I couldn't, and took to formulating strategic plans or taking walks in nighttime London, playing cat and mouse with the souls of the night.

I visited the Riddle home several times a week, eventually noting that although it maintained its wards, activity within had become minimal, as if they had moved on. I hoped that Albus had better luck on his end for I was no closer to finding an unobserved way in than I was a month ago. He finally advised that I simply survey and report back, not wanting to risk alerting our nemesis. Severus had informed him that his mark was becoming darker and more uncomfortable and that Karkaroff had been to see him on a number of occasions, fearful of what obviously lay ahead. However, it wasn't until the final task of the Triwizard Tournament when the menacing activity seemed to become more obvious.

Stark circled the audience gathered to watch at the task at the giant maze on the former Quidditch field, keeping a watchful, protective eye on Severus.

As the champions entered the maze, the twenty-foot high hedge closing behind them, sealing them in. The crowd waited anxiously, cheering and chattering, happy, proud, and oblivious to the dangers about to occur.

Severus sat silently, unmoving, all senses alert until a searing bolt shot through his left forearm making him grit his teeth and close his eyes briefly. The signal. What we had been waiting for. He knew it was time. His "master" was calling. When he opened his eyes, he met Albus' concerned gaze. As planned, he would delay, making his "master" wait, and he knew that meant a painful penalty when he returned. His explanation would be solid, if believed. To all outward appearances, Severus had remained loyal to the Dark Lord, staying at Hogwarts as instructed and keeping a watchful eye on Dumbledore. To abruptly leave during the final task would draw unwanted attention that could destroyed the Dark Lord's plan. His story was well rehearsed.

I was hunkered down, in a distant meadow, at the edge of the Riddle property, cloaked by the modified Disillusionment Charm, waiting for…anything. This seemed to be Voldemort's last chance. The Potter boy had somehow made it to the final task. Something had to happen. The tension was thick, and the static grated my nerves, as well as my skin. Power was growing, and I placed my hand on the ground, praying silently to Mother Earth to watch over those who needed it. The only response was an apprehensive shudder of the soil under my palm as Goddess Moon shone brightly overhead. My heart thudded hard against the back of my ribs. Something was going to happen…soon.

Time passed, the temperature dropped, and clouds swirled and gathered over the Riddle family graveyard obscuring the moon. To anyone else, it appeared that a storm was brewing, but to me, I knew "he" was calling his inner circle, and they were obediently responding. The air crackled as sharp "pops" shot through the clouds, and I steadied my breathing as I manoeuvred closer to the activity. The wards were heavy, layers upon layers, and I sensed the snake circumventing the property, but this time I took a risk and fought the defences, managing to infiltrate the first layer without being detected. The Elemental Guardians were on my side, the wind picking up and removing my scent from the snake's path, and the clouds shielding the moons rays. The preoccupation of the inhabitants close to the largest headstone in the centre was a blessing, but I dared to venture only to the iron fence at the perimeter, close enough to witness the activities but too far away to do anything about it. I could only helplessly watch in horror at the sickening sight before my eyes. Albus' orders had been clear – observe, report, do not intervene. My magical powers would surely be detected, putting the entire situation at risk.

While Voldemort and the boy fought, I focused all of my energy for a brief empathic message. As empathic waves were not standard magical form, I felt it was safe. I didn't know if Albus would receive it over such a tremendous distance, but I had to try.

_He's back, and he has Harry._

When Voldemort's and the Potter boy's wands clashed, gold bands arching against the sky, refusing to fight each other, the last spells cast by Voldemort's wand glowing against the blackened night. The images seemed to encourage the boy on, giving him strength, and when the bond was broken, the boy made a valiant, terrified dash for his fallen friend and the Portkey. Then, he was gone. Voldemort raged to the sky and all those in attendance felt his loss as "_Crucio"_ was cast at random, his followers tasting their master's anger.

The gathering back at Hogwarts was stunned into confused mayhem as the Potter boy landed with a thump at the entrance of the maze, clutching his friend, and sobbing in pain and confusion. Albus was the first to arrive by his side, then the masses closed in, and Stark lost sight of what was going on. Finally, through a break in the crowd, he could see the boy being led away. Waiting a while longer, and then seeing that there was nothing else he could do, the sleek, black raven took flight in search of me.

I waited at the assigned clearing in the Forbidden Forest to relay my information, but I had a feeling that the wait would be endless. Pacing the hardened ground, my stomach churned with what I had seen. My mind was so horrified that I started to giggle uncontrollably, like a madwoman.

_And here, I thought this would be a good year, _I silently, sardonically scoffed_. Cheers, Severus, I guess our annual summer vacation in Spain is definitely off._

Bending to sit on a fallen log, I closed my eyes, and rested my head in my palms, struggling for control until the laughter turned to sobs, then to jaw-clenching determination. Stark watched from a nearby tree uncertain of what to make of this emotional roller coaster. It hit like a Giant's slap at a Nargle, and I knew that from this moment on, all would change. Everything that we had waited for, everything that we had worked for, every image that we were forced to portray would come to light. This was it. The second war was now to begin. "He" was back.


	40. Chapt 39 Fighting Inner Demons

**39 – Fighting Inner Demons**

Severus had done as he was told, and the Cruciatus Reduction Potion was ready and waiting in his chambers for when he returned. I wished I could be with him, reassuring him that everything would be all right, but he had to go it alone, painfully climbing the path from the edge of the Forbidden Forest to the heavy, rough-hewn door hidden at the base of the backwater of the castle. Silently entered the dungeons in the grey hour just before dawn, his body was wracked with the agony that he knew would remain for the day. His first stop would be to Albus, to unload the burden of his task, providing as many details of the event as he could possibly recall. Thankfully, the meeting didn't last long, and as the first rays of dawn began to creep over the horizon, he entered his chamber, stripped off his cloak and outer clothes, and downed the potion that waited on the nightstand. Easing himself carefully onto the double bed and pulling the white sheet across his injured chest, he would rest, allowing his body to heal.

Stark had followed him from the path to the castle and remained silently perched on the windowsill of the main room until his master was asleep, then, gracefully lifting on the still air, he glided to the forest to relay the news of his return. I hadn't moved all night, and my limbs had become stiff and sore, but I was grateful and relieved to hear that he had made it through alive. Moving to the outer boundary and crossing the enchanted line, I Apparated to the front step of the London flat and left myself in, falling, exhausted into bed without stripping out of my filthy clothes.

Owls shot through the air carrying urgent messages from home to home making downtown London and the surrounding areas appear to have been inundated by the nocturnal aviaries. Activity at the Ministry was carried out in muted panic as officials rushed from department to department whispering furtively to each other, wondering which stories were true and what to believe. The _Daily Prophet_ reported nothing of the final event's outcome, nothing of Voldemort's return, nothing of any substance or importance. The Minister, it seemed, had restrained them from doing so. I couldn't understand. How could he deny it? He was there. He saw the Potter boy return. I was angry and confused. It wasn't until later in the day when I heard that the Minister refused to believe the boy, thought he was making it up for attention, and flatly denied for all to hear, "He Who Must Not Be Named had certainly not returned".

I received a letter from Albus late that evening instructing me to return to Italy immediately and pack my belongings that were still there. _"Re-establish old contacts. See who is still on our side,"_ he had written. _"The hard part is about to begin."_ There was no further explanation, no information on Severus' condition, or what was being planned. I felt like a puppet dangling on a string, completely in the dark, having to take his directives on faith alone.

The following morning, I made my excuses at the Ministry and was in Italy by that afternoon, leaving the team to handle the summer study schedule alone.

The humid breeze off the Adriatic Sea warmed the small villa, and it was with a heavy heart that I signed the final papers releasing me as tenant, giving up this small piece of heaven-on-earth, knowing that my future, for now, would be in Britain. Although I would occupy it for the remainder of the summer, it was with great regret and sorrow that I packed what little was left, ready to move at a moment's notice to the unappealing little flat in London as soon as I received word. A week after my arrival, Carmen had introduced me to a wizard artist friend of hers who was hired to paint the scene from the balcony of the apartment. The gold and tangerine hues as the sun shone brilliantly on the deep blue waves would be a memory to ease the loss. He even caught Stark bobbing in the breeze. It would be the only picture or painting that I had ever owned.

I spent the balance of the summer reacquainting myself with known supporters in several countries. My counterpart at the Italian Ministry was overseeing the present research schedule, and we worked co-operatively on the projects at hand, comparing information and moving forward with the study.

Returning to London in early September, I listened to the Ministry gossip as I rode the lift to my floor. The Minister had been adamant all summer in his refusal to believe that Voldemort had returned. His fear of the beast itself, as well as his suspicion of Albus' motives, enhanced his paranoia. He was determined to quell all rumours with his own, and I was appalled to hear that he had coerced the_ Daily Prophet _into using a smear campaign on the Potter boy and Hogwart's Headmaster. Seeking more information, I sent Stark to the castle that evening with a message. The reply arrived the next morning. The blank parchment had me puzzled until I remembered an off-hand comment that Albus had once made about the power of my hands. Slowly swiping my receptive hand across the brittle paper from left to right, the words appeared in Albus' sketchy scrawl. The Order of the Phoenix had been revived over the summer, a new headquarters found. The Potter boy had been isolated, cut off from all he cared about in the safety of his aunt and uncle's home but had now returned to Hogwart's with the others. He was pleased to hear that many of our old contacts in Europe held firm, and I was now to renew my association with Remus, but he was not to know my connection with the Order.

The third floor lab was small but brightly lit and gleamed with polished, stone and wood surfaces. Various experiments were spread out on available workstations, and notes and texts were stacked on shelves and desks. Cauldrons of various sizes bubbled gently under Containment spells, some with wisping tendrils, some with colourful sparks, work at different stages. I sat at my station watching the set-up in front of me.

One size four, silver cauldron. One potion. Ten vials, two rows of five. Two Stasis Charms. And one very frustrated researcher. It took all my reserve not to swoop my balled fists across the wooden workstation heaving the entire experiment onto the opposing wall. Instead, I sat, staring blankly at the set-up, clenching my jaw and spanning my fingers in a futile attempt to relax, wondering for the hundredth time what I'd missed. Of the ten vials, two remained brilliant yellow, one was pale yellow, three were a pale green, and the remaining four were simply a putrid, sickly olive. I shook my head and took a deep breath, rotating my neck in an effort to loosen the tension across my shoulders.

"Frustrated?" a soothing voice sounded from another workstation.

I nodded slowly, pursing my lips. "I don't understand what I've missed."

I heard the stool scrape against the tile floor and felt a presence approach from behind. A kind hand was placed on my shoulder, and the comforting voice instructed, "Talk me through it."

"It should be simple, but all attempts thus far have failed. One Wolfsbane Potion, made at the last full moon, divided into ten test units, then divided into two groups. This group," I pointed to the row on my right, "was cast with a Stasis Charm first. Each vial infused with the desire to keep it fresh for as long as possible. The first vial seemed to keep, but the others progressively faded until they were unusable. Pure poison."

"What about the other set? It seems to have kept better," my colleague observed. "What were you thinking of when you cast the second charm?"

I gave a quick sigh as I tried to think, it had been a month ago and much had happened. "I was thinking of my first test subject, how he can't always get the potion when he needs it, how, if it weren't for him, I probably never would have made it in the first place."

My colleague smiled knowingly.

"What?" I asked dully as I turned toward his silence.

"You cared for this man," the older researcher stated plainly. "And, that emotion was infused with the spell making it stronger. Never underestimate the power of emotions. Oh, you may care about the others, too," he added noting my furrowed brow. "But, not as much as this man. The "first" is always special," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes at the humorous innuendo, and my lips finally managed to twitch upward. "So, that's it. Emotion. How could I have missed it?"

"Not just emotion. Care. Maybe even love," he paused. "You seem to be under a great deal of stress lately, especially these past few months. It has distracted you. I had hoped that your return to Italy would help. Is there anything I can do?" he inquired kindly.

I shook my head. "No. I was as busy there as I am here. What I need is a good night's sleep."

He smiled again watching me intently. "The second set is definitely preserved better. Where you in love with this man?"

I stared pensively at the wooden surface where the experiment lay. My colleague was strolling where I had not allowed myself to go. Had I been in love? It was never voiced. Was it possible to be in love with two men at the same time? But, at the time, Severus had pushed me away. Did Remus take his place, if even for a while? My heart jolted once in my chest, making me cough slightly.

"You're silence speaks volumes," my colleague spoke smoothly. "It's none of my business, but life is not all work. You've done so much for others. You deserve to be happy." He placed his large hand between my shoulder blades, and I felt a rush of warmth. "Go home early. Take a break. If anyone asks where you are, I'll cover for you."

Suddenly feeling very weary, I cleaned up the botched experiment, took his advice, and went home. I was greeted at the door by a surprised and concerned Pinky who immediately escorted me to the bedroom, helped me change, and tucked me in. Even though it was mid-afternoon, I fell asleep instantly and didn't wake until the following morning.

The music set a slow melody as the deep male voice crooned of open air, horses, and lost love. I had overheard Arthur talking in the lift about meeting Remus here after work, and even though I knew Remus' passion for music and Arthur's passion for anything Muggle, this small country western bar in offbeat London was a stretch even for them.

Sitting at the polished counter sipping a lager, I covertly waited for them to arrive. The bar looked like it had been transformed from an old English pub with polished cherry wood trim and brass fixtures. However, the proprietors had added stereotypical trappings that one would find in old American western movies: a large iron spittoon on the floor by the bar served as an ash tray, a wooden wagon wheel hung from the ceiling over the dance floor sporting artificial luminescent candles, several sets of antlers from animals unknown to these parts adorned the walls, and an brightly lit juke box in the corner droned out songs with a country twang. The place was reasonably full and most of the booths along the far side of the room were occupied. Turning as the door opened again, I spied Remus leading Arthur in followed by a younger, red-haired man with a ponytail. I checked my Vagueness Charm and watched from my position at the bar. How was I going to do this? It had been years since we'd seen each other. I glanced over my shoulder again and watched as Arthur pointed to a small round table by the dance floor, and the men took their seats. Remus ordered a round of drinks from the leggy waitress whose denim skirt was so short that it could have been wore as a belt. She had to be careful bending over for she'd give the men behind her a show and the men in front a hefty view of her mountainous chest. I unconsciously looked down at the plain dress that I had worn, nothing overt or flash but classically simple and wondered ifI would always have to blend into the shadows. The minutes ticked by slowly.

"Buy you a drink, Luv?" a rough voice caught me by surprise and brought me back on task. A local man, obviously in after a day's work at a factory, had sidled up to the stool to my left.

"Um, no thanks," I sputtered. "I already have one." I pointed to the barely touched mug on the counter.

"Dance, then," he offered, tugging my arm, unceremoniously pulling me from the stool and toward the dance floor.

"No, thank you," I politely replied trying to pull my arm away and about to use suggestive magic.

"Then, what did you come here for it wasn't to meet someone?" he asked belligerently.

"She did come here to meet someone," a familiar voice sounded from over the stranger's shoulder.

The man eyed the newcomer and decided not to pick a fight, backing away and moving on to another prospect further down the line.

"I thought that was you when we came in. I almost didn't recognize you," he said with soft grey eyes. "You've changed."

"Put on a few pounds maybe, but have I changed that much?" I smiled at my old friend. I had forgotten that one of the side effects of this charm was that it was rendered less effective for individuals that I was or had been personally involved with.

"You look wonderful," he replied tenderly.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue. I think hexing him in such a public place may have caused a scene."

"I think you're right, and I'll take the credit for "rescuing you", but I was also, um, persuaded, to ask you to dance." He shifted feet and looked from his toes to my eyes. "Granted, I didn't tell them that I already knew you." He smiled sheepishly and glanced over his shoulder at his friends. The younger man was grinning encouragingly while the older man was twisting his head in all directions, completely enthralled with the environment.

"Well, then, I guess I owe you a dance." I smiled as we stepped onto the floor, the music carrying us with its up-tempo rhythm. His hand felt warm in mine, and it felt comfortable to be this close. We listened to the song as it sang of late nights and moonlight madness. I thought I saw a flicker of combined happiness and sadness cross his face, and when the music was over it took a moment before we drew apart. I scanned the room for a vacant booth, wanting to sit and talk with my friend, but all were taken. Seeing a couple dawdling in one, I "suggested" that they move on, vacating the seat for us to take.

"How have you been?" I began awkwardly as I slid onto the dark brown, leather bench, looking at his drawn and worn face. His hair was greyer, the lines around his mouth were deeper, and there was a new scar across his left cheek. I reached out unconsciously to run the tip of my finger along it. "That's new," I stated sadly. "I thought the Potions Master at Hogwarts was making the Wolfsbane."

"He was, but we had some…difficulty last year. I no longer work at the school, and he'll only do it when the Headmaster requests it, and sometimes the Headmaster…forgets."

"Oh, Remus, I wish I'd known." I could feel my breath catch in my throat. "I've never stopped looking for alternatives, you know. I've been working on something new, a Stasis Charm infused with the potion so that it will last longer. That way, you'll have it on hand when you need it and not have to rely on others to make it for you." He looked intrigued. "At the moment, I've managed to make it last for just over a month, but now that I've seen you again, I'm sure I can make it stronger." My brows creased in concern. "I've been hearing things at the Ministry, things that make the future look frightening. I want you to be safe, and healthy, and I obviously can't rely on others to provide you with what you need."

"So, you do still care." He eyed me with an impish grin from under that fringe that he never outgrew.

I reached across the worn barroom table, our fingers touched, and the warmth shot through my arms, up my shoulders, and into my face making me blush. "Always," I smiled in return. "And, never think otherwise," I scolded gently.

We talked for nearly fifteen minutes, such a short time that I wished could last longer, but his friends were waiting. Blue Rodeo's _"Bad Timing"_ began to strike a slow melody, and we rose for one last dance. It felt good to reacquaint with Remus. I had missed his friendly, easy manner, and was certain that come the next full moon, the Stasis Charm would be cast with more strength, and the potion would be preserved for more than a month. Who knew what the future held, and I felt that this was critical. When the music finished, we stepped back, and I explained that I had an early morning at St. Mungo's and had to leave. As he escorted me toward the door, I was detoured in the other direction.

"Dani, I want you to meet my friends." He steered me to the two redheads. "This is Arthur Weasley and his eldest son, Bill," Remus introduced as I landed in front of the small table.

I nodded amiably. "Pleased to meet you." I still retained my Italian accent that always caught people's attention.

Bill grinned widely, while Arthur rose to shake my hand. "Dani? As in Potions Mistress Daniella Di Marco?"

"The same," Remus beamed.

"I've heard about you." Arthur smiled still holding my hand.

"Ooohhh?" I shot a weary look toward Remus, fearing that he had vented with this man when I left him years ago.

Remus raised his hands and smiled in mocking innocence, and we all laughed.

"Will you join us?" Bill eagerly asked while pulling up a fourth chair.

I shook my head. "Thank you, but, no, I must go." Turning to Remus, I said, "I'll do everything I can to help. When the potion is ready, I'll be in touch again."

Leaning to kiss Remus' cheek and bid him "good night", I could feel the hesitation on both sides as we broke apart. As I walked away, I could hear the scrape of the chair against the floor, and Arthur stated, "You still love her."

"I always will," was Remus' solemn reply.

"No chance of…"

"No. Her life is her work."

"She obviously still cares."

"I hope so," were the last words I heard before the noise and music drowned them out as I reached the door.

A/N – For those who have never heard Blue Rodeo's "Bad Timing", if you can find it on i-tunes or something of the like, listen to it. My copying out the song CANNOT do it justice. It's hauntingly beautiful. As for the late nights and moonlight madness, try Brooks and Dunn's "My Kind Of Crazy". It's so Remus and Daniella.

Dani


	41. Chapt 40 Dealing With The Unexpected

**40 – Dealing With the Unexpected**

"I'm so sorry Daniella. I know how busy you are, but I've never heard her cry like this," Emily apologized as I entered her home. Adrianne frantically ran down the hall to the front door at hearing her mother's voice, launching herself into my arms, a stricken look of panic and relief on her tear-stained face. "This started the night after Halloween. I don't understand. The days were fine, but the nights…" Emily waved her hands desperately. "We've tried to calm her down, to talk with her. I've even stayed in her room with her, and that seems to work to some point, but she insisted on seeing you."

Colin stood at the end of the hall and shrugged helplessly.

"She's just spoiled," one of the twins mocked. "Needs a night light to sleep. Needs Auntie Dani to tuck her in. Baby la la," he singsonged as he skipped off with a scolding from his mother and a swat on the backside from his father.

Adrianne buried her head in the crook of my neck, clinging tight as my hand soothingly stroked her back. I had spent Halloween with Emily and the children again this year. Colin had remained at home to hand out the candy. Nothing unusual had happened. No tantrums over costumes. No sudden appearances by invisible forces. Nothing. I carried Adrianne into the living room, and the three of us sat on the sofa, me with the four-year old snuggled on my lap. Her grip was beginning to loosen.

"So," I began carefully. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

She shook her head fearfully burrowing against my shoulder. I cupped her trembling chin and turned her face toward mine. _Legilimens_ was silently cast.

A dark room. Hers. Fear. A small light attached to the wall suddenly goes on. Surprise. A different kind of fear. Daytime. The twins are taunting her. Anger. A toy flies across the room and strikes one of the twins in the back of the head. Anger turns to fear. Later. A potted plant tips over and breaks as she struggles to reach it. Frustration. Fear.

I tipped my head away breaking the spell, understanding. We gazed at each other for a moment. She was only four. Muggleborns don't usually exhibit magical ability until they're at least seven. This was unusual. I wondered what to do.

"…and then the Delphinium fell over and smashed. I've never seen her behave like this." I hadn't heard most of what Emily had been saying, but it seemed that Adrianne had been getting into a bit of trouble lately. Now, I understood why.

I sent out an empathic sense of calm, and the child slumped against my body, exhausted.

"It's Friday." I stroked the brown curls, glancing up at my friends. "Do you to have plans with the children this weekend?"

Colin and Emily exchanged a brief glance and shook their heads. "Nothing that can't be changed. The boys have swimming lessons tomorrow morning, and Adrianne has dance class right after lunch. Why?" Emily asked.

"I was just thinking. Would you allow Adrianne to spend the night with me?"

Emily's eyebrows rose. "What? Not working this weekend?" she teased.

"No social life, either." I smiled back to Colin's swallowed chuckle.

"I don't want to give into a temper tantrum," she thought out loud. "But, I really don't think that's what it is. I just don't know." She thought for a moment and looked over at Colin who was perched on the arm of the sofa. Turning to Adrianne, she asked, "Lovey, would you like to spend the night at Auntie Dani's?" The child turned her face toward me and sombrely nodded into my chest. "She's only ever slept at her grandparents' before. She's never even been to your place. I'm surprised."

"We'll spend a little one-on-one time together, and I'll try to get to the bottom of this. If she wants to come home early or decides that she doesn't want to stay, I'll bring her home," I assured my friends.

Emily packed a small overnight bag and dressed the little girl for the trip. Adrianne and I had always had a close connection, and I found myself looking forward to spending some time alone with her. Colin called a cab, and Adrianne hugged both her parents as we stepped into the night.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Adrianne and I arrived at my flat. It was in a secure part of town, neat and clean, but certainly not as pleasant or comfortable as the villa in Pineto. There was a lovely walking park down the street that I would go to to commune with Mother Earth. Maybe I'd take Adrianne there tomorrow. We stood on the front stoop which was partially concealed by a column cedar, and I noticed a puzzled expression on the child's face. Her nose wrinkled slightly, and her hand stiffened in mine.

"It feels funny," she said in a bare whisper eyeing the door nervously.

"What does it feel like?" I asked curiously. I hadn't lowered the wards yet.

"Like…I don't know… funny," she replied with a small shiver as she took a step back.

I cast my right hand across the entrance to remove the ward and asked, "Does that feel better?"

A wide grin spread across her face, and she nodded. I opened the door, and together we stepped in. Instantly, I felt her relax. She wandered the small living room, looking at the books and odds and ends that lay about. She poked at a few curiosities but was fascinated by the altar by the front window. The altar was elementally placed, facing east, each element being represented by something of meaning and importance to me. East – air – new beginnings and clarity of thought, was a flowering plant. South – fire – passion and determination, was a red tea light candle in a cauldron holder. West – water – balance, the ebb and flow of mature emotions, was a silver chalice half full of water, and finally north – Mother Earth – foundation of life, wisdom of age, was a rock taken from the meadow in Tuscany and a dried Dragon Weed flower from Saxon's grave. A white three-inch pillar candle sat in the centre on an embossed silver tray, and during ritual, my wand would be placed across the front of everything there. On a low shelf against the back, the votive trio set that Severus had given to me years earlier sat waiting to be lit. Adrianne stood before the altar, restraining herself from reaching out and poking at the items. I watched as she spread her arms out to the sides, palms up, and tipped her head back slightly, breathing in deeply, peacefully. Quietly approaching from behind, not wanting to disturb her, she turned her head toward me, and replied to my unasked question, "It felt right." My lips turned up slightly as she wandered back to the main part of the living room to examine the rest of the apartment while I took her bag into the only bedroom I had.

Transfiguring a spare pillow into a single, comfortable cot, I moved it to a space on the inner wall next to my bed. Adding soft sheets and a cozy blanket, I unpacked Adrianne's bag and set out her pyjamas. Carrying her teddy bear into the living room, I found my guest curled up on the sofa, dozing. Gently gathering her into my arms, I carried her to the bedroom, got her changed and tucked her in.

As the blanket was being raised, her sleepy eyes fluttered, and she groggily whispered, "You don't have a TV."

"I don't need one," I responded softly with a smile.

"Weird," she said as she rolled onto her side. "It's dark," she continued as her hand reached to grasp mine.

"Are you afraid?" I asked.

Her lips pressed together. "I need a light." Her voice could barely be heard as if ashamed to admit the weakness.

I brushed a chestnut curl away from her forehead reassuringly. "Okay, a light you'll have." Taking a chance, I squeezed my right palm together and focused. A small ball of dim, white light began to shine through my fingers, and as I opened my hand, the orb floated to the opposite wall near the dresser. "Does that help?"

She nodded sleepily and tried to imitate my hand motions. Nothing happened, and she looked at me, puzzled. "Again."

I brushed my hand toward the light, and it went off.

"On," she said in awe.

I brushed my hand again, and the light went on, glowing softly against the pale wall.

Without a word, without a question, Adrianne smiled up at me and reached for a hug. I could feel a sense of relief radiate from her. She wasn't going to have to deal with this alone. As I left the room, I turned to watch her squeeze her little hand together and wave it gently toward the light. The motion was ineffective, but I had a feeling that she'd get the hang of if sooner than expected.

It was very late, or early morning, I couldn't tell, when a loud knock sounded beyond the ward at the front door. Climbing out of bed, careful not to trip over the cot, I stumbled into the living room and cast a Seeing Spell toward the entrance. Who would call at this hour? I pulled the door open in surprise.

"I had to speak with you, and this was the only time I could get away." Severus abruptly pushed his way into the flat, removing the Reverse Glamour Charm as he did. "Umbridge is driving me mad! She's everywhere, and this was the only way to get out. She's been appointed High Inquisitor at Hogwarts and is interrogating the teachers IN CLASS with the students present! Trelawney is on probation, but I don't think she has power to fire her…yet. She's already posted her own rules and regulations, recruited Slytherin House to spy on the other houses – which may or may not be a good thing. If Albus isn't careful, she'll be taking over the school before long. I can't believe this woman used to be a Hufflepuff! I think Potter has begun to organize the students in some sort of revolt, but I can't figure a way to help without compromising my position. And her punishments …she's barbaric. Even I wouldn't stoop to those methods. She's drawing blood for Merlin's sake! Filch is thrilled. Someone he can finally relate to. The Ministry is…" His rant was abruptly halted by a sharp cry from the bedroom. I had been trying to get Severus to lower his voice, but he was so involved in his own release that he didn't notice. He spun, wand at the ready, toward the sound.

"Auntie Dani? It's dark!" and a low light popped on. "Aaaaaa, Auntie Dani?" Adrianne cried fearfully.

Severus' eyebrows were drawn so tightly together that it looked like he only had one.

Adrianne quickly toddled out of the bedroom and into the soft light of the living room, stopping in her tracks as a tall, black-clad, wand-wielding wizard stood ominously before her. She recoiled into the wall, and I rushed to her side in comfort.

"Are you all right?" I asked drawing the child close.

She returned the embrace. "Who's he?" she whispered covertly shifting her eyes toward the stranger.

"My husband," I whispered back with a small smile as her eyes became as big as Galleons and her jaw dropped. "I don't get to see him often because of our work. Did he wake you?"

She nodded. "It was dark."

"I saw the light come on." I observed as Adrianne's lower lip began to tremble. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't mean to," she whimpered.

"Didn't mean to what?" I asked.

She furtively looked at Severus who stood very still in the middle of the room, wand now hidden. Lowering her head, she whispered, "Don't tell Mommy." I gazed at the child. "It just came on. I was scared, and the light came on."

Severus' brows rose with curiosity and concern.

"When you're angry or afraid, do other things happen?" I remembered seeing an image of a toy flying and a potted plant falling over when I had cast _Legilimens_. She nodded solemnly. I glanced over at Severus and scooped Adrianne into my arms. Carrying her to the sofa and motioning for Severus to join us, the three of us sat silently for a moment considering the situation.

"Auntie Dani?" Severus finally broke the silence with a raise left eyebrow.

"This is Adrianne," I introduced. "Emily and Colin's youngest. I've had my suspicions for about a year, and she's had some difficulty coping lately."

"She's not very old. This is unusual with Muggleborns. They usually show it around seven. With all that's happening…" he inhaled deeply and let the thought drift as he watch the child watch him intently.

Adrianne reached over and touched his sleeve. "What's your name?" Her fingers toyed with the long row of cuff buttons on his frock coat. His left eyebrow rose again, and she giggled. "That's funny." Severus glanced over her head to give me a quizzical look.

"Well, it is," I agreed as the corners of my mouth began to twitch upward.

"Name," Adrianne demanded to Severus whose both eyebrows were now raised.

"S…," he began.

"Stavros," I quickly interrupted to surprised obsidian eyes.

"Uncle Stavros," she chimed happily. "I like it."

"Uncle?" Severus choked, while I pressed my lips together to stifle the laugh brewing in my chest. The one snort that did escape was met with a glower.

The following half hour was spent trying to derive as much information from Adrianne about the extent of her growing powers without alarming her. We gently questioned her about her "accidents", and Severus and I were both able to offer suggestions on how to deal with her emotions. However, the child was young, too young really to understand why these things were happening, although, I believe that a few things that we advised did sink in. Finally, she nodded off in my arms, and Severus offered to carry her into the bedroom. I followed to tuck her in.

"What are you going to do about her?" he asked while watching the sleeping child.

"There's not much I can do except keep an eye on her. The British Ministry's Statute of Secrecy does not bind me. I could tell Emily and Colin, but I don't want to put them in danger. I could bind her powers, but that's not my place. I could…"

"Obliviate her memory of tonight," Severus finished hopefully.

"But, that wouldn't change the fact that her powers are developing. She'll still be afraid and won't have tonight to help her deal with it. I think if I keep an eye on her she should be alright," I tried to sound optimistic.

"Stavros?" he questioned with a quirk of his lips.

I shrugged. "It was the closest to your name that I could think of at the moment. After all, you chose mine, remember?"

He smiled at the memory from so long ago, then frowned. "You have a problem," he added tipping his head toward the bedroom.

I nodded in agreement.

Severus prepared to leave as the first rays of dawn broke over the dark horizon. The day promised to be bright and sunny, odd for November but certainly not unwelcome. We had curled up on the sofa talking about how the Ministry was in denial and how they had infiltrated and were undermining Hogwarts. Severus had met with Voldemort on several occasions since his punishment in the summer and was regaining lost ground and lost status, quickly rising through the ranks of the inner circle once again. Voldemort was pleased with the discord at the school and with the number of devotees that he was gaining. I told Severus of my renewed acquaintance with Remus, and he wasn't happy to hear it. Deep down he knew the necessity of providing Remus with the Wolfsbane, but old grudges and wounds still arose making the situation difficult. I didn't further the topic. As he rose to leave, he glanced toward the bedroom, hesitant but insistent on seeing Adrianne one more time. It was curiously amusing to see the dark, formidable wizard duck his head around the corner of the doorframe into the dimly lit bedroom to spy on the sleeping child. I could sense a wave of loss and despair as he watched her. At the front door, I leaned onto his chest, and we drew each other into a tight embrace. Tenderly kissing my husband "good-bye", our lips lightly brushed before pressing into heartfelt desperation. I didn't want to let go. I wanted him to stay, for us to leave this madness, to run away and be safe, but I knew that we were in this far to deep, totally committed to the task, as we had been since we were young adults.

A sharp pain in the middle of my back jolted me awake as the sun streaked around the edges of the window blind. Groggy and tangled in the sheets, I shifted away from the pointed object only to have it move closer. Rolling over to face the offending jab, I found Adrianne sprawled on the opposite side of the bed, her elbow jutting out at an awkward angle from under the covers. Her eyes fluttered open as I lay there watching her.

"And just how did you get here?" I drawled, a small smile growing on my lips.

She giggled and buried herself deeper in the covers as I reached to tickle the little imp. Her laughter peeled like chiming bells that roused every part of my soul that I thought had been lost forever. Her smile was as glorious as the morning rays, and as I pulled her into a hug, she whispered in my ear. "I love you, Auntie Dani." Squeezing my eyes tight, I held onto this little glimmer of hope. "I love you, too, cara."

After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and orange slices, we went for a stroll in the park, watching the colourful leaves begin to fall. It was cold enough to snow, and the odd flake floated in the air, but nothing stayed on the ground. Adrianne was delightful to watch, completely enthralled with the world around her. We chatted about many things, including her fears, and she confided that she was glad that I understood. At the far end of the park, there was a swing set, a slide, and a climbing apparatus. There was also a pushcart vendor was selling ice cream, and a little boy about a year older than Adrianne was screaming at his mother demanding that she purchase him one. Adrianne maturely shook her head at the abhorrent display and led me to the swings. Climbing up onto one while I moved behind her, there was no request; the action was simply understood. I pushed.

About an hour later as we headed out of the park, Adrianne stopped and stood very still, quietly pointing to a brown and beige rabbit under a holly bush. Creeping gently from the path, she crouched down to get a better look. The rabbit didn't move. I silently joined her, sending an empathic message of calm and safety to the creature. Slowly, it turned, hesitantly creeping toward us. Adrianne was mesmerized. She sat, stock still, on her haunches while the rabbit moved forward. Placing my right hand on the child's shoulder to hold her in place, I reached for the rabbit with my left. The rabbit crept closer until it sniffed my fingers. Slowly, gently, the tips of Adrianne's fingers stroked the creature's soft back. It was a magical moment of peace, and Adrianne looked up at me with pure delight. That moment, however, was shattered by a noisy interruption by the same raucous child yelling, "Mommy, look!" as he pointed to the three of us. We startled, and the rabbit bolted into the underbrush.

"He was so soft," Adrianne remarked as she rose, glaring at the offending child.

"How do you know it was a "he"?" I asked diverting her attention back to the rabbit before something unexpected could happen.

"I just know," she said pointing to her head. "In here."

She was right. The rabbit was male.

After lunch, I took Adrianne to her dance class where she showed me off to her classmates, and I watched from the sidelines as she awkwardly reached and stretched and pirouetted, her russet curls bouncing with every turn. She was beautiful.

Arriving back at Emily and Colin's in the late afternoon, I had a chat with my friends while Adrianne put her things away. I explaining what they probably already considered, that Adrianne's behaviour was linked to her fear of the dark, and I suggested that if they merely left the night light on, her problem, for now, would be solved. Severus and I had spoken to Adrianne the night before about how to handle her fear, and I hoped that some of it stayed with her. She, also, remembered the hand motion for the light, not that it worked, but the security of thinking that she had it under control had eased her mind. My fingers were crossed. Before dinner, I also had a little chat with her brothers and "suggested' that they stop aggravating their sister, that it wasn't worth their effort and that life would be a whole lot more peaceful if they stopped teasing. I hoped it would work.

At bedtime, Adrianne insisted that I join Emily and Colin in tucking her in. I happily obliged, and when I bend to kiss her "good night" she whispered, " I hope you see Uncle Stavros soon." "So do I," was my reply as she drew me into a tight hug. Kissing her forehead, I headed to the landing to wait for my friends as they wished their daughter "sweet dreams". Even though they were not magical folk, I could feel the pink aura of pure, unconditional love radiate from the room. Tears prickled in my eyes as I watched, my heart aching with envy.


	42. Chapt 41 This Is Who I Am

**41 – This Is Who I Am**

It was late, and I couldn't sleep, completely frustrated with the Ministry's new stand on progression…or lack thereof. It had suddenly taken steps backward, limiting research and development, which now threatened the present project. It had denied access of the Tridask Thouren into Britain once again, putting a hold on the work that needed to go forward. Tossing the covers off, I felt compelled to do something. Rising and getting dressed, I headed to St. Mungo's in the dark, early morning, glad that, at least, the Italian Ministry had managed to step up and lift the ban on the plant, granted, classifying it as a highly restricted item for research purposes only. At least, I could acquire small amounts of what I needed in an official capacity and work on that phase of the project from Rome. So far, the combination of the Tridask Thouren and Magpie Mushrooms had worked quite well in the treatment of memory-impaired injuries, and there had been marked success with Frank and Alice Longbottom. However, I had to concede that, as with all Dark magical injuries, the victim would never fully recover. The couple had become more mobile, venturing into the hall, and initiating basic, physical communication with some staff and their family, certainly more than the eye-blinking and facial twitches from a year ago. Watching Alice hand sweet wrappers to her son was emotional. She was trying to reach out. I would never completely give up hope.

Entering the hospital via the main lobby, I was unexpectedly pushed aside by attendants rushing to the Emergency Floo. Healers hurriedly disembarked from the lifts as the hospital came to frenzied life in the early hour. I pressed myself against the wall to stay out of their way. Something horrible had happened. As the Floo turned green, a large, black man half carried, half dragged another man in. The body and face of the injured wizard was bloody and torn, and attendants rushed to his aid. Healers gathered around him to determine the extent of the injuries, and as the crowd parted, I recognized the red hair, and my heart pounded in my chest.

"Snake bites," I heard one Healer conclude as instructions were being delegated.

"Where was he found?" someone asked.

"The Ministry," I heard another reply.

"Get him to the first floor," was the order that had several attendants levitate Arthur's limp body toward the lift that I was standing by.

"Is there anything that I can do?" I asked feeling helpless.

"No, we have it under control," one attendant replied as I moved out of the way.

Stepping back into the main section of the lobby, I surveyed the scene, watching the tall, black man who had arrived with Arthur speak quietly to a portrait of a silver-haired witch. I only caught part of the conversation before he saw me within hearing distance. "…snake. I'll wait for the others." The witch disappeared from her frame, and I knew that the Order was on their way. I doubted that Albus would come to the hospital. He would remain at the school and send others to do what needed to be done. What was Arthur doing at the Ministry at this hour, anyway? This was the second serious injury at the Ministry in the past few months. How could a snake have gotten in? Was it Voldemort's snake? It had to be. What was he looking for? I needed answers. Hurrying upstairs to an empty office by the lab, I dispatched an urgent message to Hogwarts.

_I've seen Arthur at St. Mungo's._

_What can I do?_

_D_

The reply came immediately.

_Follow it home._

Follow "it"? Obviously not Arthur, he'd be in the hospital for quite a while. "It", the snake. Follow the snake home, Riddle's home. Apparating to my flat, I quickly changed into black jeans and a black leather jacket, tucking my wand up my sleeve and pulling a black cap over my pony-tailed, shoulder-length hair. Figuring that I would be dealing with snow in Northern England, I transfigured my low boots into something more suitable, and Disapparated from the concealed, front step of the flat.

Landing with a heavy thump in a snow-covered clearing, I crumbled, heaving for breath as large hands grabbed hold of my shoulders pulling me to my feet. I was disoriented and could feel every muscle within by body scream as if being torn from the bone. I threw my head back, gritting my teeth, refusing to cry out as I was tossed over a broad back and carried off. Fumbling for my wand, I found that my fingers wouldn't co-operate, and I almost lost it as I bounced against the wide expanse of hard muscle. Voices began to emerge in my semi-conscious: angry and harsh.

"How did she get here?"

"You should have left her where she was."

"This is not the first time you've lowered yourself to serve humans."

"This is not our way. You have shamed us."

"She's not like the others." I heard rumble from my carrier. "She knows our way and is injured."

"Do as you will, but you'll receive no help from us," a malicious voice thundered from a slight distance away, the retreating sound of hooves echoed as the blood rushed in my ears. I was carried further through the forest as another seizure coursed through my body nearly causing me to lose consciousness, but it wasn't long before I felt myself being slipped from my upturned position and put unsteadily on my feet.

"You have my gratitude, Firenze," a familiar voice sounded close by. "I don't know what happened. She didn't appear where she should have."

"Venus is strong tonight. The power protects her," the Centaur replied calmly, and as he turned to leave, another wave of pain struck. My knees buckled, but I never hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around my torso from the rear, holding me up. The scream finally emerged, resonating through the dense trees.

"Remove all your spells. Release your charm. Save your energy," the familiar voice firmly instructed as the figure behind gently lowered me to the frozen earth.

I struggled to breath, gasping in cold air, shivering but needing to speak.

"You were right. He Apparated the snake in. He was there, too, hidden. Possessed the snake maybe. They're looking for something but can't get it. He's getting desperate. He's angry. He's been trying to lure the boy." Another wave of searing pain hit, and I pressed hard against the force at my back, nearly knocking it over. "_Crucio_," I explained. "He's casting at whoever is present. It's Yule. He was at the party. When was he called? Why is he there?" I panted through the spasms.

"How can you feel it?" a curiously concerned voice asked, ignoring my question.

"I was there when it began. I got too close. Bonded…remember," I said through clenched teeth, willing the pain to stop.

"He was called right before Arthur's attack. Can you break the connection?"

"No," I gasped and slumped against my supporter. "But, it seems to be easing." I breathed slowly, steadily. "Everyone seemed to taste the frustration tonight."

I sat on the ground between a pair of long legs, sturdy arms still wrapped around my upper body, keeping me warm as well as secure. My vision finally began to clear, and I looked into the worried, wizened old face kneeling before me. "I'll be alright," I reassured weakly, shifting as my backside started to feel the cold.

Albus stood and began to pace, shaking his head, and stroking his long beard. I shifted again and tried to rise, losing my balance and tipping sideways into the arms of my supporter, my face landing in a heavy, woollen coat. I knew this coat. I knew the scent. Tilting my head back to meet apprehensive eyes, I inhaled sharply at the realization.

His brows furrowed. "Dani?" He glanced between Albus and me. "I don't understand."

I stood and took a shaky step back, struggling to remain standing. With the Vagueness Charm gone, he would be able to remember the past, even though it had been twenty years. Recognition slowly began to dawn. "Alicia? No," he denied. "But…how?" He was left speechless.

"It was the only way to keep me alive," I explained rubbing my temples.

"Daniella's existence must be kept secret, Remus. Too much depends on it," Albus stated resolutely.

"Who are you bonded with that you would feel their _Crucio_? A Death Eater?" he questioned in distress.

"That is not of your concern," Albus' remark was curt. "We must determine a way that it doesn't happen again. Was this the first time?" he directed toward me.

"Yes," I replied weakly.

"Does he have his potion?"

"In his room."

Albus nodded, gazing at Remus again. I could almost see the wheels turn in his brain as he tried to formulate a plan. "Well, what's done is done," he finally said. "This may act in our favour. The two of you will have this additional support," he indicated between Remus and me. "Now that you know who she is, understand that discretion is crucial. We've managed to keep Daniella alive all these years by keeping her involvement with the Order secret. We need her skills." Albus' intent gaze penetrated Remus. Understanding was clear. His silence was critical. He nodded in agreement.

The Shrieking Shack had fallen into further disrepair over the years. It's unkempt rooms thickly covered with dust and grim, more broken furniture and shredded linens, certainly in worse condition than it had been when Remus and I used to meet here.

Under Albus' order, Remus escorted me to the ramshackle structure, a firm hand helping me walk the cold, icy path. I needed to rest, and Apparating in my condition was too risky. An effective _"Scourigify" _from Remus' wand had the upper bedroom cleared of dust, and the bedding changed. Another wave of his wand had a roaring fire blazing on the hearth. Remus kept his distance, a look of betrayal on his creased face. I gingerly removed my jacket and boots, stuffing my hat and gloves into a pocket. Padding to the fire to warm myself, I silently stood beside my friend feeling the chill from his presence, rather than from the room.

"Was it all a lie?" he finally uttered staring into the fire. "You knew who I was all along, didn't you."

"There was no lie," I responded just as quietly. "But yes, I knew who you where."

"All that time we spent together…we were lovers, for Merlin's sake…you could have said something."

"No, I couldn't. Remus, there are many jobs in my repertoire, but this is who I am." I took a deep breath and began the story. "When we met at Hogwarts, Voldemort had just killed my parents. They worked for Albus, and he felt a responsibility to me. He also knew that I had undeveloped skills that would be useful in the future, but had to determine exactly what they were and how to deal with them. I was only there for six months, hardly enough time to really get to know anyone, but Professor Slughorn saw my ability in potions, and when the year finished, Albus saw to it that I was privately tutored. He hired top minds in the Wizard world to finish my education and hone my other skills specifically to serve the Order. I worked for a number of years for him but, when I was betrayed," I paused, closing my eyes, willing myself to move forward, "I was badly beaten, tortured with _Crucio_ and raped. I lost _all_ of my powers, everything that I had worked so hard for. I was near death, but someone took a huge risk to save me. Albus saw this as an opportunity to have an invisible force on the outside, someone no one would suspect. My name was changed, and I moved back to Italy. I was isolated, and for the most part, still am. It took more than a year to recover, but I did it. I continued with my studies, gained an apprenticeship and subsequent Masters, and worked for the Italian Ministry of Magic in the Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions. All of this is true and real and can be verified, and no one ever made the connection between Albus and myself. It was my Ministry who initiated the push to get me into Oxford. I wanted to further the study in lycanthrope that Belby had abandoned. If it weren't for you, that would never have happened." He turned to give me a puzzled gaze. "I made the Wolfsbane for you, because I cared for the boy that I remembered from school. I never forgot our friendship, never forgot that you didn't cross my circle. That kind of friendship and trust went beyond consciousness. My other accomplishments are merely an extension of who I am. I was always good at Potions and Herbology, and wanted to help people, to make their lives better, but I'm also at the command of the man who gave me a second chance at life."

Remus continued to stare into the fire, his face gaunt, his eyes unseeing as the shadow of the flames reflected on his features. "That's why you had such faith in me, because I hadn't hurt you before," he thought aloud. "The first time we made love, it was… aggressive, and you cried. I thought I'd hurt you, but when you said that there'd been someone else, who were you referring to, the rapist or the person you're bonded to?"

"The person I'm bonded to," I said flatly. "I was telling the truth. I had been involved with someone but something horrible happened, and it drove us apart."

"But, you're back with him now?"

"Yes."

"Lucky man."

There was silence for a few moments, and I reached to touch Remus' sleeve, to reassure him of my sincerity. He turned his head to look into my eyes. "You call him Albus. Why?"

I shrugged. "He wasn't my Headmaster for long, and he never was one of my professors. What was I to call him? _Mr_. Dumbledore?"

Remus smirked. "Doesn't sound right, does it?"

I smiled back. "No." My smile faded. "For the most part, the only time he ever gets in touch with me is when he needs me. Rather has a one-track-mind."

Remus snorted slightly, as if he could relate, and changed the subject. "You must be sore and tired. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, but I don't think I can keep anything down at the moment. _Crucio_ may have been secondary, but it still wreaks havoc with the nervous system."

Remus nodded and draped his arm over my shoulders, turning me toward the bed. "Sleep, then," he said softly as I sat on the edge of the rough covers. He took position on the old lounge chair near the fireplace, settling down as I drew my feet up. "I hope he treats you well," he spoke to his hands.

"He does," I replied as I snuggled into the blanket. "But, that doesn't mean I can't care for you, too," I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

The dim sunlight struggled through the frosty windows defying whether it was morning or early evening. The room was comfortably warm, the fire crackling low on the grate. I shifted onto my back prying the sleep encrusted lashes apart and rubbing my fingers over my eyes. It was quiet except for the odd snap of heat-splitting wood, and I wondered whether I should get up or stay where I was. The bed was cozy.

There was a light creak of the downstairs door opening, and my senses were suddenly alert. Quiet footsteps trod up the worn, wooden stairs and made their way to the half-opened bedroom door. I sat stiffly, wand ready to strike. The door eased open slowly and Remus snuck in sideways, his tattered coat pulled tight and a shopping bag tucked under his arm. He shifted to close the door to keep the heat in, and I waited silently for him to turn around. When he saw me sitting up, he startled, grasping hold of the tumbling bag.

"You're awake. Good. I was afraid you'd sleep through Christmas." His gentle smile filled the room.

"Sleep through Christmas? That's days away." My brows creased as I looked out the window at the lightly falling snow.

"Hardly," he said. "You've been asleep for thirty-four hours. Christmas Eve is tomorrow." He placed the bag on an overturned crate by the fireplace and began to pull out a few items. "You've got to be hungry by now," he said as he stirred the fire and prepared a slab of meat to be roasted.

"Definitely," I replied as I joined him, rifling through the grocery contents, examining his purchases.

Together we prepared a luscious meal over the open fire, devouring it without shame, talking and laughing, enjoying the comfort of the special friendship that could not be destroyed. We may not be bonded as lovers, but our bonded stretched all the way back to Hogwarts and the uncrossed circle, reached through days and nights of Wolfsbane trials, and the intimate relationship that ensued. Regardless of what was to come, we rested in the fact that our friendship would endure.

Orders arrived by a speckled barn owl on Christmas Eve, interrupting our tea. Remus was to escort the Weasley family to St. Mungo's the following day. I was strong enough to leave and had promised Emily and Adrianne that I would visit for Christmas dinner. Finishing our meal and cleaning the remnants of our presence from the hideout, a warm hug was our parting gesture before stepping into the bitter cold, setting sun. Neither of us wanted to let go. I was so relieved that he finally knew who I was and accepted the reasons for the secrecy. Kissing his worn cheek, we parted, hoping to see each other again soon.


	43. Chapt 42 The Spider Web

**42 – The Spider Web**

If you look closely at a spider web, you can see the seemingly fragile strands of interlinking threads connecting one delicate section to the next. It's strength and beauty lies within the spider's skill in attaching the pieces of its world together, to intertwine its immediate reality to extenuating factors in the mutual reality. To watch the precision of the spider as it weaves the delicate netting leads one to consider the amount of planning involved in trying to balance all aspects of its life. The web's intent is to catch prey, however, there is much more to the silky mesh. The threads bind each section together, making connections to seemingly unconnected parts, and if one strand was to break, the entire web could eventually be destroyed. Some webs, however, are much stronger than they appear, being able to withstand many of nature's elements, lasting for years. The one thing that must be maintained is belief, the faith in nature. Mother Earth has a way of taking care of its own.

"Ta da." I bounded into the upstairs room of the Shrieking Shack. "Not one, but three, count them, three Wolfsbane Potions, infused with a very special Stasis Charm, just for you. It was such hard work." I brought the back of my hand to my forehead dramatically. "But, so worth it." I grinned happily at my friend who was lounging by the fire, reading the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

He looked up. "Three months? What? You don't want to see me anymore? I'm hurt!" He feigned disappointment.

"I want you to always be prepared. You read the paper, and you heard the last bit of news from Albus. The Potter boy is still having dreams, even though one of his professors is giving him Occlumency lessons. We know that Voldemort is after something in the Department of Mysteries, probably the prophecy, and is probably trying to "persuade" the boy to go after it. He can't remove it himself. And, after that incident at Azkaban…" I rambled.

"Incident?" Remus snorted, tossing his legs over the edge of the long seat, waving the paper at me. "It was a mass break-out of some of You-Know-Who's most devoted followers, which means that he now has some very strong back-up and that the Dementors are most likely on his side, too. As for the man giving Harry the lessons, he's an excellent Occlumens, but loathes Harry and relishes taunting him, and I'm afraid Harry shares the sentiment. I'm not certain how effective those lessons will be."

"Have faith, Remus," I encouraged with a smile. "I'm certain the man is a professional. After all, Albus trusts him, doesn't he?"

"Merlin only knows why." He leaned his tattered elbows onto his knees, eyeing me through the sandy grey fringe. "He's a very unpleasant man." He paused and frowned in thought, as if he wanted to continue but changed his mind. "You up for a stroll to Hogsmeade, or do you have to rush back to work?" He quickly changed the subject.

I tipped my head to the side, and rolled my eyes pretending to think, but knowing what my answer would be. "I'd love to go for a walk, but a short one. I _am_ due back."

Bundling up against the early February cold, we hiked to Hogsmeade to peruse the shops, chatting along the way about our work, or at least the parts that we were able to discuss. He was spending a lot of time with Sirius lately, trying to keep his friend appeased but was also trying to persuade the other werewolves to join Albus' force. They were frightened, though, and afraid to choose sides. He was, also, beginning to understand why I claimed to always be "working". I had never explained what type of work I had been doing, not that I lied, simply didn't disclose the details. It was a tough job balancing my life between the Wizard and Muggle worlds and the multitude of tasks I held in each. If one really thought about it, I didn't have a double life; it was more like a triple life. Remus half joked that he didn't envy me and realized how hard it must be to keep everything straight. I reassured him that life was a bit easier now that I had someone to confide in.

"What about your bond?" he asked curiously. "That's rare, ancient magic, something special." He had once pressed about who this person was but my (and Albus') insistence that he was better off not knowing kept him from pursuing the matter. I think he had his suspicions, though, although he never said.

"We don't get to see each other as often as we'd like. As with any connections that I have, there's a risk, and have to be disassociated from Albus and the Order. You are a totally different story." I shook my head at his next question before he could ask. "We had a public connection through the development of Wolfsbane, and therefore, have every reason to be seen together."

Remus smiled wolfishly. "Lucky me."

Stopping in front of Gladrags Wizardwear, we examined the contents of the storefront window. I watched Remus' reflection in the glass and felt an uncomfortable pulse emanate from him. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, and I nudged him back to reality.

"I don't think it's your colour." My lips twitched with amusement as his cheeks flushed slightly.

"I…um." He shook his ducked head and started to walk away, hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

"No, no." I put out my hand to hold him in place. "Whose colour is it?" I smirked, egging him on about the lovely purple scarf that he was eyeing.

"No one's," he replied softly, examining the nearest pile of snow.

"Come on. Tell me. What's her name? Or, is it one of those things that I'm not allowed to know?"

He shook his head. "You know what I am and what's coming up. I can't let myself get involved with anyone. Of all people, you should understand."

"Psshhh, don't give me that. It's obvious you like her. Is she part of the Order?" I wagged my eyebrows as he rolled his faded grey eyes.

"Yes, but it can't be," he insisted, turning away from me to continue the path.

"You know," I began as I looped my hand through the crook of his arm, walking slowly down the main street. "We don't know when this war will come to a head. The terrorism has already started, but to put your life on hold, afraid to make a move, is a waste of precious time. Remus, you deserve to be happy, and if _she's_ in the Order, she knows what you are and will be taking similar risks. Don't be afraid. Take the chance," I encouraged.

A light snort from my friend made me look up. "That from the queen of putting her love life on hold," he smiled.

The bells of St. Mary the Virgin Chapel peeled through the crisp winter air. The gathering had been small, only about sixty or so guests, but the crowd that had gathered outside the church exceeded over a hundred as students, past and present, and uninvited faculty members waited for the bride and groom to appear. I had been placed on the groom's side, sandwiched between Professor Cornwall and his wife and Professor Liberman (aka Master Lindstrom) and now relished the bright sunshine as we waited for the couple to make their appearance. Milling through the crowd, it was obvious whom the crotchety, old man with the heavy, oak cane was related to for as people approached to express their congratulations, he replied with a curt, "It's about bloody well time! Wish Eva could have lived long enough to see it." I smiled at the resemblance and turned to speak with a group of colleagues from John Radcliffe. The conversation was almost giggly as the group discussed the courtship of the foul-tempered Adam Kurtz and his young teaching assistant, Carla Pratt. It was obvious that she had a firm handle on the man, and he had softened somewhat under her attention. "She planned it well," one said amusedly. "He'll certainly never forget their anniversary," another chuckled. It was Valentine's Day. We all nodded in agreement and joined the cheers and applause as the couple stepped from the church, glorious sunbeams shining upon them as they acknowledged their guests.

The reception that followed granted the opportunity to finally touch base with some colleagues that I hadn't seen for a while. Although I still lectured occasionally, I had limited myself to a select few professors and subjects. It was good to hear that the study I had initiated at the hospital was still progressing and had expanded into fields that I would never have considered. The Muggle world seemed to embrace progress and advancement much more readily than the Wizard world, financing ideas and theories, waiting patiently for results. It angered me to think that the diffident thinking of the British Ministry of Magic was hindering my present project. The Head of Departmental Research at John Radcliffe asked if I would be interested in examining these new procedures, and I happily accepted.

"Are you ever going to get married?" Professor Cornwall had snuck up behind me, abruptly breaking my train of thought. The question was unexpected and caught me off guard but was not spoken with a malicious tone.

I smiled cordially but held my tongue.

"You're a beautiful, young woman, Daniella," he continued. "There's more to life than work. Granted, many, including myself, certainly appreciate your efforts, but you really should find someone."

The words of my friends and colleagues, whether they were Muggle or Wizard, seemed to keep repeating themselves, and Remus' words struck home, "the queen of putting your love life on hold". I wished that Severus was by my side, sharing our lives together. As it was, he had sent a small gift and note this morning by our favourite "Stark Post" with a hope that we could meet sometime soon. I shook my head, not seeing it happen soon enough. I was beginning to look like a pathetic, old maid, burying myself in work rather than making a life for myself with someone I loved.

As Adam and Carla made their way through the guests, I watched the small gestures: a touch on the arm, a brush against each other, side-glances of an unspoken but understood message. I never thought he would find someone that he would let into his snarky world, but they seemed to be a perfect pair. Smiling warmly as they approached, I held out my hands and offered my most sincere congratulations.

"I'm glad you got the message." Albus turned briskly out of the dark kitchen and paced to the study, lowering himself into the large armchair by the unlit fireplace. He waited for me to follow and take my place. It was obviously going to be a short meeting for even with the absence of the fire, there was no tea brewed, and a deep frown was set on the old man's face.

"Remus relayed the message without difficulty. What's going on?" I asked.

He sighed slowly before he began. "Things at the school are becoming increasingly difficult. I fear that the Ministry may attempt to have me removed. I believe that you have been kept abreast of Professor Umbridge and her increasing power?" I nodded. "Harry has begun to…shall we say…rally the troupes, and it will merely be a matter of time before they are caught."

"Why don't you warn them?" I leaned forward in my seat.

"I must keep my distance from the boy. If Voldemort really is entering his mind, as I suspect, the last thing I want him to find there is me." He paused for a moment. "I must ask something of you that may be very difficult to do." I leaned back against the soft cushion, waiting for him to continue. "I understand that the Ministry has blocked your present project." I nodded slowly. "And that your team has gone as far as it can go in its present state." I tipped my head questioningly. "Are there any other projects requiring your immediate attention?" I shook my head cautiously. "Good. Would you consider taking a sabbatical? Events are building, and I need your skills without so many distractions." He paused to let me think.

I had finished the last lecture in the most recent series at Oxford just a few days ago and had not scheduled anything new. The project at the Ministry _was,_ pretty much, at a standstill. I would have to return to Rome to check on progress there, but the last time I had checked, it too, had gone as far as it could go. Returning home would not be questioned with the rise in tensions in Britain. It would be seen as a "get out while we can" exodus. Once back in Rome, a formal request for sabbatical could be made. I foresaw no problems. It, actually, seemed to be the perfect time. Then, the strangest question came to mind.

"Where would I live?" I asked quietly, not that I was particularly attached to my flat in London.

"Here," Albus replied. "This house recognizes only you, me, and Severus. It remains unplottable and completely secure from intruders." He waited once more.

"I'd be isolated again?" I really didn't like that idea.

"Not really, but information of your activities will be kept on a need to know basis. You will still have contact with me, Remus and Severus, and I believe that you are keeping an eye on one little Muggleborn witch." He raised his bushy, white eyebrows questioningly, pale blue eyes peering over half-moon glasses.

"Yes," I replied. "She'll be five this Saturday. I'm curious see if her powers have developed any further."

"So young." He shook his head. "Yes, keep in contact with them. Use Earth magic, and place a Protective Charm on her and her family. We don't want the wrong people to get any ideas."

Albus left me sitting in the cold study. I had agreed to the sabbatical, thinking that it would do my mind good to have fewer things to think about. I could focus strictly on the war and not have to balance so much.

_Yes,_ I smiled to myself. _A sabbatical is the perfect solution._

Colourful, helium-filled balloons were tied to the back of Adrianne's chair as she knelt on her seat, leaned forward, and blew out the five sparkling candles on her Barbie birthday cake. Emily had invited a few of Andrianne's playmates to the party, and they gathered around to get their share of the chocolaty sweet. I grinned happily from the kitchen doorway, watching Emily pass out the dessert, while Colin snapped pictures. The twins anxiously hovered in the background, not wanting to have anything to do with the girls, but not wanting to miss out on the cake either. As soon as they were served, they disappeared into the playroom and away from the squealing females.

When the presents were opened and the party guests had gone, the family gathered in the living room for a quiet moment together. I was pleased to be considered part of that family. They meant the world to me. I hugged the boys lovingly, and they disdainfully wiped my kisses away as eight-year old boys would do. I feigned shock and hurt, and they lunged at me, smothering me with rough hugs and laughter. The family had given their presents to Adrianne when she rose in the morning, and now it was my turn. Pulling a pink and white box the size of my palm from my bag, I held it out to the little girl. She gingerly took it and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table to slide the curly ribbon off and peel back the paper. She lifted the lid to find a small silver amulet nestled in the packing cotton. The flat disc showed an encircled triquetra engraved on one side while the rune "Wyn", an angular P, was engraved on the other.

"This is a very special necklace," I told Adrianne whose eyes were as large as Galleons as she held the pendant. "This symbol," I pointed to the triquetra, "is the symbol of protection, and this, I flipped the amulet over and pointed to the P, means happiness and security. As long as you wear this," I took the amulet from her fingers and placed it around her neck, "I will always be with you, watching over you," whispering in her ear, I added, "keeping you safe. Happy birthday, cara." As I finished attaching the chain, Adrianne touched the pendant and I could feel the Protective Charm activate.

The child turned to me, a huge smile on her face. Her arms reached up, and I was drawn into a neck-breaking hug as she whispered, "I love you, Auntie Dani."

As always when I visited, I joined Emily and Colin in tucking her into bed, and as we left the room, she called softly, and I turned while my friends continued down the hall.

"Watch this," she whispered as she squeezed her hand together, her little face scrunched in concentration. As she released her hand a dull, glowing orb emerged from her palm. She floated it to the far wall, and I stood watching her proud smile.

_You must keep this a secret,_ I cautioned, and she nodded in agreement. I smiled and waved my hand gently toward the light, brightening it slightly, watching Adrianne grin in the glow. Bringing my hand to my throat, I indicted to her amulet. _Remember, always keep it on, and I'll always be with you._ She reached for the necklace and touched the runes with her fingers, feeling the charm seal itself. With a big yawn, she smiled again and rolled over to sleep.

When I rejoined the others in the living room, the twins were saying their "good nights", and Colin was taking them up to bed. I received another raucous round of hugs before they raced up the stairs being hushed by their father.

"They really love you," Emily observed with a friendly smile.

"The feeling is mutual," I replied flopping into the corner of the sofa.

We sat in silence for a few moments unwinding from the afternoon activities, Emily's head leaning against the back cushion, eyes closed, relishing the silence.

"That was a beautiful necklace you gave her. I should have taken it off of her and put it away for special occasions."

"No," I quickly replied. "It has a special clasp that can't be broken easily, and the chain may not look it but is very strong." I paused for a moment, measuring the next words. "It's important that she keep it on." I paused again. "I'm taking a sabbatical from work, going back to Italy for a while. There are things that I need to do, but I promise to stay in touch."

Emily's eyes were wide open as she bolted upright in her seat. "Is everything alright?" She looked very concerned.

I nodded with a forced smile. "I'll be back, but I don't know when. I want you to have something, though." As I walked to the front door to retrieve another package, Colin rejoined us, and Emily explained the situation. Colin's concerned face met my upturned lips as I handed the package to my friends. Emily unwrapped a ten-inch polished, black plate. It was edged in silver, and the border was embossed with the same triquetra pattern as Adrianne's amulet.

"I hope you like it. It has a stand so that you can put it on your mantel."

"It's beautiful, almost looks like a mirror," Emily breathed. "Thank you." She rose to place the dish on the wide walnut mantel, centring it to face the room.

_Perfect,_ I thought, feeling satisfied. Emily's placing of the scrying mirror sealed the Protective Charm that had been placed on it. It would enable me to keep an eye on the family from a distance, and the charm had been activated with her touch, protecting the occupants of the house.

As with all webs, the spider eventually moves on, seeking and facing new challenges, but the web remains intact, if cared for. Mother Earth has a way of taking care of its own.


	44. Chapt 43 Serving The Order

**43 – Serving The Order **

Albus' suggestion of a sabbatical didn't come as a complete surprise. I knew that, at some point, I would be called to serve the Order exclusively again. Come to think of it, I really didn't object. Working for either Ministry was becoming monotonous and stifling, and lecturing at Oxford had become the same, far too routine. The only thing that altered that routine was the occasional request to write for trade magazines, both Wizard and Muggle. I relished the times when Albus called me and was ready to make this change. The trip to Rome was successful, and my supervisor wasn't surprised that I asked for a break. He actually wondered what took so long. Carmen wished me luck and hoped I'd have a relaxing holiday. "Holiday", the general definition of sabbatical, but holiday is not what I was up to. This was a clandestine and necessary change in occupation. I was, finally, getting back to what I was originally trained for.

Since my arrival in Cumberland, I could feel the pressure release from the juggling act that had dominated the past ten years. I had more freedom and was doing personal things that had been put off, simple things like reading, cooking, and jogging, things that I enjoyed. My power was building, and I was once again testing and using skills that had lain dormant for far too long. I was revitalized, and if there weren't so much violence and fear generating from the upcoming events, I would almost say, I was happy.

Bocelli sang out his haunting, operatic _Romanzi_ as onions, peppers, and garlic were sliced and diced to perfection, sautéed in olive oil, and set aside while the meat browned. This was a simple "edible potion" that gave me so much pleasure to prepare.

A flip of my wrist levitated the braised veal strips toward the steaming vegetable mixture, blending the two together gently with a light marinara sauce. A shift of my hand lifted the pot of egg noodles toward the colander in the sink, tipping it and draining the water out. Pinky had set the table for two and placed a basket of warm rolls in the centre, a bottle of MASI, Modello Delle Venezie open and breathing on the edge. Serving the meal in shallow bowls, I joined my dinner companion.

"Mmmm, this looks lovely, my dear," Albus began, reaching for a roll and smothering it with butter.

"Thank you. I'm glad you could join me," I replied with an upward twitch of my lips.

"Getting lonely?"

I nodded slightly. "How's it going at the school?" I asked casually, pouring the red wine into pewter goblets.

Albus inhaled deeply, his lips drawn into a thin line. "Not good, I'm afraid. I believe my time is coming to an end." I was taken aback, but he raised his hand to continue. "For now. Professor Umbridge's power with the Ministry has exceeded even what I expected. She has all but taken over already. I have made preparations and should warn you that you may have a houseguest in the near future. This will give us an opportunity to do some investigating that has been neglected. I understand you had a meeting today?"

I snorted slightly. This was Albus' version of small talk: down to business, but I supposed it was my fault. I did ask about school.

"Yes," I said, dipping my roll into the pasta sauce. "Severus was called to the Malfoy's this afternoon. I shadowed him. It was a larger gathering than usual but, strangely, nothing was really discussed. It was as if Malfoy was taking stock of who would answer his call. I could feel that something was brewing, though. There was almost an excitement emanating from Malfoy, as if he knew something that the others didn't but wasn't going to tell."

Albus rolled the pasta around his fork, spearing some veal in the process. "Who was there?" he asked as he placed the portion in his mouth.

"Severus, of course, Malfoy and his wife, the Lestrange woman," I chuckled slightly, "She lives up to her name, strange indeed. What a nutter! Then, there was Crabbe, Goyle, McNair, Avery, Molotov, and Rookwood. There was another man that I'd seen before but who was not addressed by name. A tall, blonde man. Big, muscular, rough. He looked a bit out of place. Everyone had an air of being very high-ended or well-placed. He didn't."

Albus nodded as I scooped more dinner onto my fork. "The Carrows were not included? Somehow, I'm not surprised. Mr. Malfoy doesn't like them much. Still, this is the most dangerous group to be involved with," he said. "Ruthless. Cunning. Without conscience. You have developed a strong shield. That's good. You'll need it."

Moving through dinner, I changed the subject. "I've done something that I hope you approve of." Albus raised his head from his plate. "Remus still needs his potion, as does Severus. I've transformed part of the cellar into a small lab, basic but necessary. I procured most of the tools and ingredients before I came here so, at the moment, there's no need to go to Diagon Alley."

Albus nodded, wiping the last bit of roll around the bottom of his plate, sopping up the last of the sauce. "I've been thinking. You've been here for a little over a month with only me on occasion, and Pinky of course, as company. I know you get out but you have very little companionship. I trust Remus as much as I trust Severus. Should you wish to invite him here for, say…dinner, I would not object. I do not wish to isolate you completely. I remember your early years in Italy." My lips curved upward into a small smile. "This place must remain unplottable, however. He must arrive only in your company, by your invitation. That way he does not need to know the location. Apparating out is not an issue."

"Thank you." I eyed the old man thoughtfully. I wasn't sure if I would carry through on the invitation, but appreciated the gesture. This had always been Severus' and my secret place. To bring another man in, even a friend, didn't feel right.

Albus stretched slightly to look over my shoulder at the plate on the counter. His eyes lit up as he spied the dessert. "Is that hot lemon pudding?" he asked hopefully.

As suspected, Harry's little troupe of fighters was discovered shortly before Easter, and Albus, covering for them, was forced to flee Hogwarts or be taken into custody for instigating a revolt against the Ministry of Magic. He arrived late one night and sealed himself in the study until the next morning. When he reappeared, he offered his apologies, and instructed me to Apparate to Little Hangleton. I was to investigate a family who once lived in the area – the Gaunts. "Research only," he insisted. "Use your empathic powers. _Legilimency_, if necessary. Find out where they lived, if anyone remembers them. These people would be very old, if there are any left." He would handle the rest and left as abruptly as he arrived. I headed to the haunting, little town that hosted the most evil wizard to walk the earth.

Stark glided on the spring breeze as I hiked my way through the little village toward the wooded boundary. My excuse for snooping around was that I was researching old families in small towns in Northern England for a university paper. My first stop had been the county records office to identify the location of the Gaunt property. I learned that it had been abandoned decades earlier, and the townspeople stayed very much away. The aged, town clerk had been just a young girl when the Gaunts lived there but remembered the warnings from her parents to keep a far distance from "that" family. "They were a strange lot," she had said. "People were afraid of them." With a low whisper, the old woman glanced furtively around as if afraid of being overheard, and confided that the patriarch was an odd, foul-tempered, cruel man who lived with his two children in a small hut outside of town, well hidden from the main road by tall, dark trees and nettles. A riding path passed close to the old house, and she had ventured there once on a dare. She had been badly frightened by the son who had hissed at her, and she had never returned. The family rarely left the property, but the son was known to harass the townsfolk and had had several run-ins with the law. She shook her head and tsked, advising that if I wanted to learn more, I would do well to visit the constable's office and ask to research the old files.

The constable's office was a small, one level building near the village centre. I handed the officer in charge an official looking letter that explained what I was looking for and a young clerk escorted me to the back room to search through the archives. The officers who worked there were too young to have had any dealings with the Gaunts, but the constable made a list of several retired officers whose names appeared on quite a long list of reports. I pocketed the list and planned to investigate further, but I had one stop to make first.

Trodding the gravel road toward the overgrown, abandoned structure, I felt an overwhelming rush of despair and loneliness. It was not a ward, but rather a feeling of utter hopelessness that seemed to penetrate every portion of the woods surrounding the deserted building. Indeed, it was off the road, about a mile, and it would have been very easy to miss for it was so overgrown with vines and ivy that it blended well with its environment. A request to Mother Earth had the branches and nettles part, exposing a half open door partially off its hinges. The windows no longer held glass, and a roof was, to some extent, caved in. There was an overpowering smell of decay like something had crawled into a hole and died. Stark swooped down beside me and coasted through the open, front door. His caw indicated that it was safe to enter. Pushing the door open further, I stepped in.

_I get the feeling that we shouldn't be here,_ he sent as he eased to perch on my shoulder.

_So do I_, I returned. _Just a quick look around, though. Did you notice the carving on the front door?_

_No,_ Stark replied.

_It was a serpent_, I observed. _I think Albus is withholding information as to why he wants me to investigate these people_

_It wouldn't be the first time he hasn't told you the whole story_, the raven retorted.

_True, but I don't think anyone involved with him knows the whole story_, I answered as I wandered the decrepit structure.

_Maybe, but there are times when I don't trust him. He may be aiming for the greater good, but I think he's looking for something else, too. _Stark ruffled his feathers_._

_I have the same feeling. There's definitely something he's not telling, but I don't think it's my place to ask._

_Why not? You're the one taking risks, walking blindly into situations for him. I think you deserve to know the truth._

_I think I know more than most, and I don't think he'll ever tell. I think he'd rather take it to the grave._

Looking around the ramshackle structure, it was obvious that no one had lived here for a very long time and that no one had been in since the original occupants had vacated the premises. There were two archways opposite the front entrance; shabby pieces of material covered the openings that appeared to lead to bedrooms. The same material was suspended, in shreds, over the window openings. Rusty pots were stacked on a shelf above a grimy, black stove to the left of the doorway, and the few dishes that were there rested on the dusty shelf to the right of the sink. There were some dishes and a fry pan in the filthy-encrusted basin, and an old, dust-covered mug on the floor by a tattered armchair near the fireplace. I had a feeling that whoever had lived here either didn't care how they lived or had suddenly left, maybe by force.

_Are you ready?_ Stark asked, prodding me into motion.

_I suppose. I'm committing the place to memory. You never know what small detail may be important in the future._


	45. Chapt 44 Happy Anniversary

**44 – Happy Anniversary**

The knot at the back of my skull worked its way up the tendons of my neck, into the base of the cranium, splitting to rise behind each ear, and throb, particularly, in my left temple. It affected my vision, making me squint in the dulling light of early evening. I rested in the cosy armchair in the sitting room, the wings of the seat securely encircled me, blocking out the thunderous ticking of the mantel clock. I didn't want to move, so I sat, listlessly staring out the front window to the rolling meadow that surrounded the remote, little safe house. Not even a sheep grazed in the short grass, just beyond the stone fence. Pinky had brought a warm cloth for my eyes, and I had taken a strong dose of Willowbark and Feverfew Potion, and the tension was beginning to ease, but still, I sat. The cauldron waited on the heavy, wooden kitchen table, ritual tools placed inside for easier carrying. It was just getting dark, and the fenced-in backyard was secluded enough to perform the rite of Beltane, but still, I sat. I had never missed a Beltane ritual, although there were times when it was not as in-depth as it should be, but tonight I just couldn't get moving. Maybe it was because I was so tired. Maybe it was the headache. Maybe it was because I was here alone on our anniversary. Maybe it was all of the above. It wasn't like we hadn't missed anniversaries before, we'd missed the last two, but this year, I was here, and he wasn't.

By ten o'clock, it was dark, and my headache had nearly subsided. Finally heaving myself out of my comfortable position, I headed to the washroom to soak in a purifying bath before dressing in a light shift, gathering the cauldron, and drifting outside. Pinky, bless her heart, had prepared the bonfire, ready to be lit, in the centre of the yard. Swinging the incense from the hanging receptacle, I walked clockwise, consecrating the land. Ending where I had begun, I placed the pot on the ground and turned to face the pile of wood. With a chalice of water in one hand and a palm of salt in the other, I raised my arms to the Goddess and the God, continuing to bless the earth, invoking the deities and inviting the guardians to join the ritual. Feeling the power rise within, I extended my projective hand to cast the circle, a glow of purple light spilling forward as I made the rotation.

"Not starting without me, are you?" a silky voice drifted into my concentration.

"Join me," I softly invited, not breaking the rhythm.

I felt the circle disrupt slightly as a new presence arrived. My lips turned slowly upward as I felt his power join with mine, the aura intensifying around us. Raising our wands simultaneously, we cast _"Incendio"_ and had the bonfire blazing gloriously toward the star-studded sky. He was on one side. I was on the other, and the glow of the flames danced in his ebony eyes as I let the music of the night fill my senses.

Severus was not Wiccan, but for some reason, the Goddess allowed him access whenever he chose to join me in ritual. I think it was because Beltane was our special night. This night had been an affirmation of our love, the night of our bonding, the night of Saxon's conception. I looked past the fire to the man on the other side. His strength and commitment, his loyalty and bravery never ceased to amaze me. I was blessed to be part of his life. My dance continued, and he moved to join me, together offering our praise and gratitude to the Goddess and God, reaching to the shining moon with clasped hands and full hearts.

As a pale pink aura rose from the ground, Severus turned to run a long, elegant finger over my shoulder and down my arm. His breath was shallow but controlled, his features intense. He stepped to meet me face to face, barely an inch a part, and I reached for his fingers as they brushed against my hand, clasping them gently, gazing at him lovingly. We both breathed deeply, pure contentment and acceptance filling our souls. As if in slow motion, he bent his head to stroke the side of my face with his majestic nose, inhaling my scent and pressing closer. I could feel his heart pound through the thick layers of fabric as he nuzzled my earlobe, drawing it seductively between his lips. I raised my head in response, nipping the tender underside of his jaw and working my way to meet his mouth. Lifting my hands slightly as our lips finally met, I began to slowly unbutton the long row of black discs that fastened his frockcoat. Working from the bottom up, the back of my hand inadvertently brushed his swollen groin, and he inhaled sharply, straightening his posture, and closing his eyes. It had been so long. Spanning my hands across his thin chest, I pushed the coat from his shoulders and let it fall to the grassy floor, pulling the white, linen shirt from the edge of his trousers next. He stood still, permitting this privilege of intimacy that he allowed no other. When his torso was bared, I closed my eyes and moved to nuzzle the spattering of fine, dark hair, brushing my lips across his pectorals, and gently suckling a flat nipple as my hands wrapped around his waist to brace his lower back. He shuddered under my touch, raising his hands to tenderly move the straps of my shift over and off of my shoulders. Caressing my neck, the tips of his fingers danced across my collarbone to my chest, feather light touches grazing my hardening nipples. The contact was so delicate, the precision of a Potion Master's hands. Letting the shift slide to my ankles, I unfastened the waistband of his trousers, noting that he had lost weight. They slipped off easily, and he stepped back to toe off his boots and kick aside the pants. Standing naked before the fire, we raised our arms to the heavens, stretching to the deities, silently counting our blessings, then lowered to the soft ground.

It was slow and sweet, tender and loving, gentle and passionate. We loved with every fibre of our bodies, hearts, and souls, completely lost in each other, completely devoted to each other, a bond that could never be broken. Tantalizing caresses and subtle touches stroked our frayed nerves, easing us into unadulterated bliss. Straddling his hips, I set the motion while he guided me, our breathing in steady rhythm of utter peace. As we felt the heat rise and the motion intensify, he raised his hips for greater contact sending me arching into ecstasy, bright red stars exploding behind my eyelids, his release following closely with a groan that reverberated within the circle. With his hands cupping my breasts, I was braced in a sitting position until he gathered himself. Then, opening one eye as I waited, he smiled at my situation, wrapped his hands around my waist and lowered me to his side, surrounding me in the warmth and care that was often considered foreign for the foul-tempered professor.

The aura tamed, and eventually, I released the circle. Gathering our clothes and ritual supplies and allowing the fire to die out, Severus and I made our way into the house, crawling under the warm, down covers of our bed. We lay there for a while, resting in the comfort of each other's arms until the clock in the sitting room chimed midnight.

"Happy anniversary, cara," Severus whispered to the top of my head. "Ti amo."

I smiled broadly against his chest. I couldn't remember the last time he had said, "I love you" in English. "Ti amo, caro," I responded pulling him closer. "Happy anniversary."

My eyes flickered open, struggling to focus in the dull light of early morning. Rolling onto my back toward a warm mass, I found Severus lying on his side, head propped up by his left arm, eyes gazing intently at me. I smiled and shifted closer as the back of his right hand stroked my cheek, following the line from my temple to my chin.

"How, of all the celestial bodies, was I blessed with yours?" he asked reverently.

"Just lucky, I guess." My lips twitched upward in a seductive smile as I snuggled against his torso.

His countenance remained serious. The tips of his fingers slowly caressed the length of my body, gently brushing over my chest and ribs, palm opening to span over my hip.

"You are my light, my reason for living," he whispered as his lips brushed mine in the semblance of a kiss. Moving his hand to the tight muscle across my abdomen, he tenderly stroked the smooth skin, occasionally poking a finger into my navel. "In the circle last night…" he began hesitantly, "we didn't cast an Infertility Charm." He paused, looking into my face. "Saxon would be fifteen now, and I've seen you with Adrianne. I know what it must mean for you to be without a child." He paused again, measuring his words carefully. "Now is not the time, Daniella. This war will be worse than the last." I could see his eyes glitter as if with unshed tears, and I knew that he felt the pain of Saxon's loss, and the delay of any other children, and I understood what he meant about the war.

I placed my hand over his on my abdomen, squeezing it gently. "The Goddess knows that now is not the time. She knows that it would be too dangerous. The child would be at risk."

"But, she knows our hearts. Wouldn't she follow our hearts rather than our common sense?" Severus rolled onto his back to stare at the cream-coloured ceiling, his right arm tucked under his head

"The Goddess is wise, Severus. Have faith. Don't worry." I nestled my head against his chest, and our fingers toyed together. "Things always work out in the end. What will be will be."

We lay there in silence for a few moments, the distant tick of the mantel clock joining the rhythm of our beating hearts as we dozed back to sleep.

"Oh, Gods…yes…there…harder…YES!"

My body arched hard against Severus' chest, my legs wrapped over his buttocks pulling him as close as possible. He was braced above me, arms shaking with the strain, a look of sheer concentration on his face. He was holding back. The condensation on the windows indicated the rise in temperature that had occurred in the last twenty minutes. The top covers where on the floor, and the sheet was tangled in our feet. I kicked it away, and Severus took the motion as a desire to change position. He pulled back and grabbed my hips, flipping me onto my stomach, pulling me to my knees. _Oh Gods,_ I thought again. _That'll work._ Losing all sense of myself, we were one, moving toward a common goal. The motion became powerful as he drove deep, and my head knocked hard against the headboard. Severus' right hand smoothly moved from my hip to my shoulder to hold me safely in place. With a last intense thrust and a loud groan, he spilled into me, shuddering as he bent over my back, his arm wrapping around my stomach, holding me in place. Letting my arms give way in the aftermath, we collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap; Severus still firmly planted behind me. After a moment of silence, I felt a slight shake and twisted my head to see what was wrong. He was chuckling. A raised eyebrow from me got the answer.

"I was afraid I'd knock you unconscious. Are you alright?" He placed his hand on the top of my head, smiling broadly.

"Well worth the stars." I grinned as I rolled over, feeling the strong beat of his heart through his chest.

I was drawn into a tight embrace as his smile filled the room. "Breakfast," he stated firmly. "Then, I have to go."

A short hunt for our clothes had us playfully "bumping" into each other in the small bedroom, delaying our emergence into the kitchen, and by the time we arrived, Pinky had prepared a spread of food fit for Merlin himself. As she served the scrumptious meal, the tips of her ears turned fuchsia.

Severus' took notice, and his lips twitched mischievously. "Did we make too much noise last night, Pinky," he teased. "Or, was there too much noise this morning?"

Pinky's ears turned a definite scarlet, but a wide grin emerged as she ducked her head. "Master can make as much noise as he is wanting. It is good to see Master stay the night." She, then, grabbed an empty plate and disappeared with a quick "pop".

Severus and I chuckled and finished our meal privately, not wanting to disrupt the peace and contentment of our rare time together. But, as with everything, all good things must come to an end, and Severus stood to leave. Pulling me into a crushing hug, I buried my face in the coarse wool of his common frockcoat, wrapping my arms around his waist as if he were my lifeline.

"Be safe," I whispered, holding my voice steady so that it wouldn't crack.

"Always," he replied pulling back to gaze into my eyes.

I cupped his cheek feeling the stubble against my palm. "Until we meet again," I said, kissing his warm lips.

He leaned to tenderly kiss my forehead before moving back. "Until we meet again," he repeated.

Stepping into the bright sunshine, he Disapparated from the patch of Dragon Weed by the back fence. There had been no discussion of the war, no strategizing, not even small talk of our efforts. This had been our time, and it served to fill us with a new sense of determination and commitment. We wanted the war over. We wanted a life together. We wanted a family. We knew all would be difficult to get.


	46. Chapt 45 Wizard War II

**45 – Wizard War II**

"Bloody Merlin's balls! I can't believe he would be so stupid. Impulsive. Unthinking." Severus' dark, lank hair fell into his face, the Snape persona firmly in place.

"You did what you could. He's not deeper within the forest. I had a run-in with Bane…"

Severus drew his shoulders back, and his scowl deepened at the Centaur's name.

I raised my hand. "I'm fine. Elemental magic goes a long way. The boy isn't at the gamekeeper's hut?"

Severus shook his head, his lips a tight, thin line. "I'm certain he's not alone either. There are at least six students missing, all his friends. His broom is still locked up…" Severus paced the forest floor, thinking, his robes characteristically billowing with each turn. "How else would they get there?" he thought out loud

"Maybe he didn't go. Maybe they're back in the Common Room."

Severus snorted as he spun toward me, his head flipping to cast a lock of greasy hair from his face. "You don't know Potter," he spat. "He's on a mission. He thinks the Dark Lord has his precious godfather at the Ministry and will do what he can to "save" him. I confirmed that Black was at Headquarters, but Potter had already disappeared."

"Well, none of them can Apparate yet, so if they're gone, they must have flown."

Severus' eyes narrowed, and he snarled, "They wouldn't have!" He dashed deeper into the forest, and I followed closely, nearly running into him as he suddenly stopped in a small clearing. "They did," he exhaled with derision.

"Did what?" I asked, stepping beside him, the half moon shining into the empty glen.

"Thestrals," he waved into the opening. "They took the Thestrals."

"To London? Are they mad?" I scanned the glade for any sign of the magical creatures.

He turned abruptly, heading back toward the castle. "We have to let Albus know. He's been gone the past few days. Do you know where he is?"

"No, but he said something about going to Headquarters later tonight. He needed to talk with Sirius." I trotted along beside him keeping up with the stride of his long legs.

"Go back to the safe house, just in case he shows up there. I'll send a message to the Order. Hopefully, there'll be someone there to stop those foolish children."

The days that followed saw a discernible swell of apprehension and fear in the Wizard community as word of the battle at the Ministry spread. For once, the _Daily Prophet_ reported the correct news, giving recognition to the Potter boy and Albus, finally acknowledging that they had been right and truthful all along. No apology was forthcoming, however, for all the slander that had passed over the last year. The focus was on Voldemort's rise and the Ministry's decline. Minister Fudge resigned his position, staying on only in a minor role, and officials scrambled to piece together what they could. Their complacent world of ultimate denial had crumbled, but those who had silently supported Albus and the boy suddenly grew strong and took leading roles in organizing a defence. They would fight.

The Order had suffered a loss as well. Although several had been injured, Sirius Black had been killed, and that had a detrimental effect on the members. They were a close-knit group, and his loss was felt on many levels. The Order was forced from their long-time headquarters at number twelve, Grimmauld Place for fear that the security of the house would be breached now that the last Black male had passed on. But, although scattered, they held close to each other for support.

As the weeks passed, the Ministry began to gather itself, and in conjunction with the _Daily Prophet_, began issuing safety protocols and "helpful" information. Voldemort's reign of terror had begun and people were disappearing and dying. The list kept growing. Death Eaters increased in infamy, and Dementors roamed the countryside spreading their misery, sucking the happiness out of everything they came in contact with. No one was safe.

It was during this time when Severus, Albus and I met at the safe house one last time before going completely underground. Severus' role was about to deepen threefold. His Reverse Glamour Charm would now remain, not be removed for any reason. He had to stay completely in character at all times or risk exposure. I would have to keep in touch with him empathically without his overtly contacting me. We devised a simple yet effective signal to be used only in emergencies. When Severus left the safe house, his lank hair obscuring his face, the scowl etched deeply into his features, my heart went out to him. He didn't kiss me "good-bye" but simply gave a curt nod to both Albus and me, turned on his heel, and Disapparated from the back garden without looking back.

_Occlumency can be a wonderful thing_, I thought sardonically as I focused on blocking out all emotion and concentrated on the task at hand. Albus and I had a job to do. Little Hangleton was waiting.

I led the way from the deserted, gravel road to the overgrown path that led to the derelict Gaunt dwelling. Albus followed, scanning the area as if he were remembering something from long ago. Using Elemental powers to move the nettles out of the way, not wanting the razor sharp edges to cut us, I noticed that Albus, too, kept his wand tucked securely into the pocket of his dark blue robe. The use of standard magical practices could be traced, and we didn't want anyone to know where we were.

The hovel hadn't changed from the last time that I was here. The door still hung half open on its hinges, and a light breeze rustled the scraps of faded, yellow material in the glassless windows. As we entered, Albus asked that I wait while he searched the place. He had used the list that I acquired during my last visit and had spoken with many people, both Muggle and Wizard, regarding the Gaunts. He had obviously gained information that he was clearly not willing to share. I obediently stood by the front door as he disappeared into the bedroom, emerging a few moments later, tucking something into the inside pocket of his robe. Puttering around the filthy main room, pretending to glance at a few items, he signalled for us to go.

"Albus," I stepped in front of him, blocking his path at the door. "I'm not stupid, nor am I blind. You're up to something and got what you were looking for in the bedroom. You knew it was there and went straight for it. Keep me in that dark, if you will, but I think I deserve answers."

He looked at me sheepishly like a child who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I do not mean to deceive you. I merely had a hunch, and believe my hunch was correct." He pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket and unwrapped a large, gold ring set with a black stone. The stone had an unusual crest filigreed into the top. It almost looked like a graphic eye. I reached to touch it. "Do not," he said sharply, pulling it back. "We don't know what kinds of enchantments are placed on it. That is why I took it with my handkerchief. It was hidden behind a brick in the wall. Severus and I will examine it. He is, after all, quite an expert in the Dark Arts." Albus' lips twitched upward at his comment.

"It doesn't look like it belongs here. Was it a family heirloom?"

"Indeed, and a very old one at that. This is the Peverell family crest," he said pointing to the oddly filigreed stone. "The Peverells were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin."

"That would mean one of two things." I eyed my grandfather cautiously. "Either the Gaunts stole the ring, or they themselves were descendants of Slytherin"

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," he smiled.

"So, how does this tie to Riddle? Except for that Riddle was in Slytherin house." I still didn't follow.

"Tom Riddle Senior married Merope Gaunt and…"

"Produced a son," I finished, still a bit puzzled. "But, Tom Senior is buried up in the cemetery, with a wife…and her name was not Merope." I had remembered this from the weeks of observation a year ago.

"It's a long, sad story, but in short, poor Merope hoodwinked Tom Senior into falling in love with her. It was quite a scandal for such a small town. They left Little Hangleton, and when only Tom returned, about a year later without Merope, gossip ensued once more. The girl was never heard from again, and no one seemed to care. Tom carried on with his life. It's our job to put the pieces of this puzzle together."

"And, the ring? Why is it important?"

"Voldemort was a collector, trophies, you may say. He is the only surviving heir of Slytherin, and the ring, quite precisely, is his. We already know that he was capable of creating a Horcrux. He did so with his diary at sixteen. I believe that he created more than one. He had an attachment to Hogwarts, and I believe that he has collected a variety of items in conjunction with the school in order to create safeguards to his immortality."

"And, as an item belonging to a founder, and relative, you think the ring is one?"

"Possibly…probably."

"We should get out of here," I advised, taking a defensive stance over the old man. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but be careful. Don't do anything…impulsive."

Albus smiled at my protective manner, but said nothing. I could sense the thoughts reeling in his head and could see the excited glint in his pale blue eyes. He was anxious to get something done. But, what?

"You foolish, old man!" I raged, pacing the hardwood floor. "What have you done?"

Albus leaned his head back against the tall cushion of the oversized armchair in the sitting room. His pale face drawn with what he knew he had to say. For a moment, he looked defeated, then as if revived, he sat straight, gathered his robe around him, and ordered me to sit, the fingers of the dead-looking hand peeking out from the sleeve of his brown, brocade robe.

His calm demeanour belied the seriousness of what had happened. "Indeed, a foolish, old man who couldn't resist the temptation of something so rare. Severus was able to stop the flow of the curse but not the eventual effect. We've already spoken of what _he_ must do. Now, I turn to you. Daniella, I will die, probably within the year, and there is still much to be done."

I flopped into the twin chair and angrily glared at my grandfather.

"We need to piece as much of Voldemort's past together as we can. By knowing the past we can understand the present and possibly his ultimate desire. Yes." He waved me off as I gave him a "we-know-what-he-wants" look. "We know his path, but to better understand the man we need to delve into the boy. Little is known about him prior to his attending Hogwarts. Athough, I was the one to investigate him so many years ago, little could be found. There was something odd and cruel about him. I had my doubts then, but no one but your grandmother agreed with me. The others simply saw him as a charming orphan who was magically gifted. Once he graduated, he applied to Hogwarts to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was _I_ who refused him. He was too young. He didn't possess enough life experience, _and_ I still didn't trust him. I know he worked and travelled for Borgin and Burkes, however, there are far too many gaps in his activities, far too many missing pieces of information. _Our_ goal is to put the puzzle pieces together to ultimately discern what he may have used as Horcruxes and where he would hide them."

"It's going to be a busy year," I deadpanned from the depths of my chair.

"Indeed," Albus stonily agreed, leaning back. "At the moment, however, I must attend to Harry. He has fulfilled his time at his relatives, and will be moving to the Weasley's for the balance of the summer. I, also, need his help in convincing a former teacher to return. There will be a staff shift this year. One that Severus is delighted to perform."

My anger slowly turned to curiosity. How could he be pleased with what has happened?

"I am allowing Severus to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts this year," Albus explained as my brows suddenly shot up. "We need the students to be ready, and he _is_ the best."

"I never understood why he was always denied."

"Many reasons, but it was too much of a risk to lose him. After all, I believe, like everyone else, that there is a curse on the position."

"And, now you're willing to take the risk?" I didn't know whether to be happy that Severus finally got what he wanted or terrified that he may not survive the post.

"He knows the risks, and now is the time for him to be there. Where is your wand?" Albus asked, strangely changing the subject.

.

"In the bedroom," I replied tersely.

"Summon it," he ordered.

I raised my receptive hand and summoned the wand. When it arrived, I reached to grasp the wooden handle bringing it to rest on my lap. Albus quickly placed his hand over mine, firmly holding both our hands around the wooden stick.

"Promise me," he began seriously, "that if I am incapacitated in any way, if I am suffering, you will end my life."

My brow furrowed as I realized what he was asking, and I shook my head.

"I asked Severus to do the same. Daniella, please, on your wand; swear that you will help me. It will do no good for me to suffer."

I breathed deeply and swallowed hard. I couldn't believe what he was asking, but looking at the deadened, black fingers peeking out from the sleeve of his robe, I understood. There was no stopping Dark magic. "I swear," barely croaked from my constricted throat.

"Good," he said jovially as he released the wand and tapped my knee. "Now, are there any biscuits in the tin?"

Bright sunshine of early August shone through the tops of the trees as I made my way from the outer boundary of Hogwarts grounds toward the backwater of the castle. I had had no contact with Severus so far this summer but had heard through Albus that he was staying at his family home in Yorkshire, Peter Pettigrew as his house "guest". Death Eater attacks on both Wizards and Muggles had increased substantially, and the Order was doing everything in their power to protect those that they could.

I hiked my way up the deserted hills behind the fortress, unseen by the few staff members that tended to stay over the summer. Hauling the rucksack off my back, I dug out the tools needed for the job at hand. At our last meeting, Albus had asked that I return to the continent to procure a special plant to help fortify the castle. Reaching in, I pulled out several packages of seedling Draconus Filiastus and began planting them at all of the backwater entrances, infusing a spell within them to protect the castle and its innocent inhabitants, to keep out those who sought to cause harm. Albus didn't want to take any chances, and my special brand of magic would go undetected by most conventional forms. Touching the tiny seedlings, they grew about two feet high, appearing as if they had been there for years, miniature, purple buds sprouting out from spiky, green leaves.

As the sun rose higher in the east and the mist over the lake dissipated, I sat with my back against the outer dungeon wall enjoying a moment of peace. I remembered the few months so many years ago when I had attended Hogwarts. Who would have thought that a young witch raised in a community of Muggles, so far away, would be involved in such covert activities? I would never have guessed it, and yet here I was, using a different name than what I had been born with, having developed skills unique to the Wizard world, about to fight a battle that I had spent my entire life training for. I shook my head and suddenly closed my eyes, not for the memory, but for the abrupt jolt that pulsed through my senses. Danger. Fear. Panic. I was suddenly fully alert and on my feet, every nerve on edge. I was needed. Gathering the rucksack and racing down the slope toward the forest, I dashed to the boundary. Stopping momentarily to catch my breath and focus on the signal, I withdrew my wand and Disapparated.


	47. Chapt 46 The County Fair

**46 – The County Fair**

A ball of yellow light whizzed past my head as I blindly landed behind a wooden sign touting the incredible feats of "Melvin the Magnificent". Instinctively, I ducked, wand ready to strike. What had I Apparated into? I could hear frightened screams, and the sound of wood splitting as spells and hexes hit their mark. Quickly glancing around, it appeared that I had landed at a county fair…but where? A cry drew my attention to a pile of rubble of what appeared to have once been a carnival Ring Toss game.

"Mommy! Mommy, wake up!"

Ducking my head around the corner, I swiftly crawled toward the tiny voice. On the other side of the shattered boards, Emily lay on her back, eyes closed, partially covered by debris. Adrianne knelt by her sided, shaking her shoulder, trying to rouse her mother.

"Adrianne," I whispered as I crawled closer. "Where's your father?"

Adrianne's tear-filled eyes grew wide when she saw me, but she wouldn't let go of her mother's arm. "They went to the Water Balloon place, over there." She pointed to the kiosk across the midway. It was still intact, but void of apparent life. Hopefully, they were hidden behind.

"Did your Mum hit her head? What happened?" I asked, quickly examining my friend for outward signs of injury.

"A light hit her, and she fell. She won't wake up," Adrianne cried shaking her mother's arm again.

"What colour was the light?" I demanded in alarm.

Adrianne didn't answer.

"Adrianne." I grabbed the child's shoulder to get her attention. "What colour was the light?"

"Red," she sobbed.

With a breath of relief, I reached past the distraught child and placed the tips of my fingers on Emily's sternum. _"Envernate." _ She gasped and her back arched off the ground, eyes fluttering open in panic, looking for her child. Helping my friend into a sitting position, Adrianne clung to her mother while I glanced over the edge of the destroyed counter top. Wizards were locked in battle, while frightened Muggles took cover, several hanging in various contorted positions in the air like oddly-shaped balloons. Two Dementors hovered overhead waiting for their opportunity to strike. Turning back to my friend, I gauged the distance between where we were and the Water Balloon game and decided to take a chance.

"Can you move?" I asked Emily who still looked a little stunned.

She nodded and shifted the child off of her lap, wincing as she twisted to her side.

Taking hold of Adrianne with my right hand and pulling Emily to her feet, her arm flung over my shoulder for support, I took another glance around the edge of the debris before cautiously moving into the open. Hobbling as fast as we could, we managed to dodge a couple of hexes before landing with a thump behind the counter on the other side. Colin had a firm hold on his two wriggling boys who were anxious to witness the action. As we arrived, one of the twins wiggled free and popped his curly strawberry head over the top of the playing surface. A green ball of light flashed past, shattering the clown faces painted on the wall behind. Colin grabbed hold of his family, keeping them securely close.

"How did _you_ get here?" one of the twins asked when he saw me.

"Later," I responded as I took another look over the edge. We had to find a way out.

"When did this start?" I asked my friends.

"About twenty minutes ago. These people suddenly appeared in dark cloaks and masks. We thought it was part of some show, so everyone gathered around. Then, weird things started to happen. People started flipping upside down, floating through the air. At first, everyone thought it was funny, you know just part of the exhibition, but then it became scary and people panicked, and that's when the coloured lights started. Most were yellow, but some were red, blue, and green. The men in the masks were laughing, but it wasn't funny anymore, and people started to run. It was like bombs going off. Things were being blown up. What's going on? Is it a terrorist attack? Who'd attack a county fair?" Colin's face was full of concern, and he clung tightly to the boys.

Just then, malevolent laughter drew our attention to the left as a man in a black hooded cloak and silver skull mask stood over us, his wand pointed at Emily and Adrianne.

"What would you do to save them, Muggle?" he asked contemptuously.

Before Colin could respond, my concealed wand was raised by the side of my leg, a silent _Confundus_ was cast, and the man wandered off aimlessly in the other direction.

"That was weird!" exclaimed one of the twins, but before he could continue, the air unexpectedly turned very cold. The water that had splattered from the toy pistols froze on the counter as a Dementor made a sudden appearance above us. Emily and the children screamed while Colin dove to protect his family with his body.

At this, my wand was out. _"Expecto Patronum!" _ I yelled, pointing the wand at the grotesque creature. A large, luminescent raven erupted from the end, spreading its wings and chasing the creature away. When I turned back to my friends, I was met with gaping looks, and a sudden "Watch it!" from Adrianne. I spun to the side, narrowly escaping a green flash, but my _"Stupify"_ hit its mark. Ducking back down, I instructed Emily and Colin to keep hold of the children, not to let go. Focusing hard, I could sense the location of the closest Death Eaters who were working their way toward us. Rolling to my knees, _"Serpensortia"_ sent a large asp slithering in their direction, and _"Impedimenta"_ slowed the men in their tracks. I heard one man scream as the snake made its way forward while he was hindered in his escape. Returning my attention to my confused friends, I encouraged them to rise and follow me. There was little I could do in the cramped quarters that we were in, but before we could go too far, our path was blocked by a menacing sight. A very large Death Eater stood before us, wand pointed at my heart.

"Well, done, luv, but not good enough. Are these simple Muggles worth your life?" He motioned that I put my wand down and opened his mouth to cast a spell, but the words were never uttered.

"NO!" A little hand flashed forward, a small ball of energy knocking the wizard's mask from his face. The distraction was enough. _"Expelliarmus" _and_ "Stupify" _were cast simultaneously, one from me, and one from a masked newcomer. I raised my wand to fire at the second man but hesitated as my opponent lowered his weapon.

"I knew it was you," a velvet voice emerged. "Only you could have a raven Patronus." I smiled recognizing the tone. "Get them out of here," he sharply ordered. "I'll cover you."

His wand was raised to the ceiling of the kiosk as I cast _Protego _over myself and the family, grabbing hold them, and Disapparating us out before Severus brought the kiosk down in a fiery rubble. With everyone holding tightly to each other, I pulled the family from the fair grounds to the living room of their home, all of us landing in a heap on the carpeted floor.

Rising and checking for injuries, Emily and Colin clung to their children while I weakly climbed onto the sofa, energy diminished from such a strenuous Apparition. When my friends let their children go, I called the twins to me. Placing my hands lovingly on their cheeks, fingers touching their temples, I soothingly had them recount their day up until the Death Eater attack; at which point I isolated that moment, and cast _Obliviate._ The memory of the attack was wiped from their minds, with only the pleasant thoughts of a wonderful and fun day at the fair. As they trotted off to play, I called Adrianne to me. She climbed onto the sofa, and I tenderly wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

"You were magnificent today," I praised, smiling at the small child.

"I didn't know what else to do." She unconsciously toyed with the amulet around her neck as she spoke.

I halted her fingers and lifted the rune. "I told you that I'd always protect you, that I'd always be there."

"I knocked his mask off, didn't I?" She looked uncertain, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"Yes, you did." I smiled reassuringly. "I think we're going to have to let your parents in on a few things, especially after what they've seen today."

"Who were those men?" she asked curiously shifting her head to look directly into my face.

"Very bad people, I'm afraid. Adrianne," I paused. "I'm going to take away the memory of those bad people so that you don't have nightmares. Okay?" She nodded slowly as I placed my hand across her forehead and eyes and bid her to think of the events of the day. I watched through _Legilimens_ and empathy and when she reached the part where the Death Eaters arrived, I cast _Obliviate. _Like her brothers, she would only remember having fun at the fair with her family. Giving her a big hug, I sent her off to her room to play while I confronted two very confused, very frightened, and increasingly angry parents.

Colin sat in a chair opposite the sofa, his elbows on spread knees, eyes gazing suspiciously through tousled strawberry hair. "Who, or what, in hell's name, are you?" He practically hissed the words.

I bit my lower lip and glanced over at Emily for support but found only an angry, confused expression. Seeing no way out, I told the truth.

"I'm a witch," I announced expecting the worst.

"Uh huh," Colin breathed, looking at me as if I were crazy. "And, just what happened today?" he calmly pressed on, as if uncertain of hearing a reasonable answer.

"The Wizard world is at war," I began, gauging my response carefully to their reaction. "The best comparison I can make is that of your World Wars, domination through racial supremacy. There are those who favour a "pure" race and will do all they can to eliminate those considered inferior."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. It's the stuff of fairy tales. You're far too intelligent to believe this malarkey," Colin sputtered, throwing himself against the back of the chair, hands flailing in the air.

"Daniella," Emily finally found her voice and leaned forward in her seat. "You've got to understand our scepticism. A witch? Really. A Wizard war?" Emily turned to her husband. "But, then, how do you explain what we saw today, and, why pull us into it?" she turned back to me.

"Because, you're Muggles," I answered. "Non-magical folk, and to those men at the fair in the black cloaks and masks…inferior. They're called Death Eaters. They're responsible for a lot of things that are happening right now in your world. Those two deaths, especially that one that the police can't figure out, where the woman was locked in her apartment from the inside and was murdered, she was one of us. We know what happened and who did it. We just can't catch them."

"What about that…thing that made everything freeze?" Emily added in bewilderment.

"A Dementor," I replied calmly, feeling it best to simply answer any questions that were asked. "Our government used to use them to guard…"

"Azkaban." Colin looked up with an angry glare. "Fairy tales! My grandmother used to tell me stories about a hidden world of magical people and a Dark Wizard who wanted to rule that world. She would never say his name. She would always whisper, _"He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named",_" he mocked.

My eyes widened. "Your grandmother?"

Colin nodded. "She was a bit loopy in her old age. Used to do strange things. It got to the point were Mum wouldn't let us go over anymore."

The light was beginning to shine. That's where Adrianne got it from. The magic must have skipped a generation. I smiled with relief.

"I don't think this is anything to smile about." Colin angrily jumped to his feet. "All this time, we welcomed you into our home. You were a trusted part of our family, and you lied to us, all this time?"

"I never lied to you, kept things secret, yes, but it's against our laws to disclose this information to non-magicals. I do it now, because it's necessary. I had to show myself to you in order to protect you. I would never risk your lives or harm you."

"You praised Adrianne for doing the right thing. What did she do?" Emily asked curiously.

"She summoned me. The necklace I gave her for her birthday contains a Protective Charm. When I explained what the runes meant, I was telling the truth. I gave it to her for hers and your protection. I had to leave. I'm fighting in this war, too. But, I needed to be sure that you'd all be safe. There's a Protective Charm on the house as well. It signals me if you're in danger."

"And, you'd risk coming here to help us?" Colin asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

He lowered himself back into his chair, a dumbfounded look on his face. Emily was dazed.

"Is Adrianne a witch, too?" Emily finally muttered glancing at her husband.

"Yes," I calmly replied.

"And, you weren't going to tell us?" she sullenly added.

"I couldn't, not yet. You see, I didn't know about your family history, and Muggle-born children don't usually show their powers until they're seven. When she started so early, all I could do was keep an eye on her."

"It was about the night light, wasn't it? The night she panicked, and I had to call you." Emily looked up, understanding beginning to show.

I nodded attentively. "That was the night I discovered her ability."

A heavy sigh was emitted from both parents who wordlessly slumped back into their seats attempting to absorb their new reality. After a moment of silence, they looked at each other, and Colin uttered, "So, I guess the stories about my grandmother were true after all. There were rumours, and she did do odd things that she'd never explain." He scrubbed his face with his hands "This is a bit much to handle."

"Would you like to me to get you some water?" I sat straighter in my seat.

Colin nodded.

"_Accio_ _a glass of water_," I commanded with a flick of my wrist, and a tumbler of water whizzed down the hall from the kitchen, bobbing in mid-air in front of Colin's stunned face.

"This is going to take getting used to," he muttered as I mischievously twitched a smile at him.


	48. Chapt 47 A Waiting Game

**47 – A Waiting Game**

The cold rain struck the back of the safe house with a vengeance, the wind howling against the stone, whipping down the chimney, and making eerie noises. The bright sunshine and warmth of summer had disappeared rapidly once the fall equinox passed, turning every day since into a miserable deluge of sleet and wind.

The lab in the cellar and the books in the study had become my refuge from the storm. Albus and I had ventured out on a few occasions, tracking down leads and making discoveries that shed light on the enigma of Voldemort, but at the moment, there was little to do. Albus was back at school and had not issued a new assignment. It was often a waiting game, deciphering the first clues before investigating the next. Albus had to examine the most recent memories that we had obtained, in order to determine where to proceed. In the meantime, I puttered with a few experiments, had been inspired by the storm to brew a strong Pepper Up Potion, and read (and memorized) the latest editions of _Potions Monthly_ and _Il Giornale Dei Potions_. At the present, I was having a little chat with the Goddess regarding the upcoming trip to the Isle of Lewis for my ritual Samhain pilgrimage and tomorrow night's annual Trick or Treating with Emily and the children. The weather didn't look co-operative.

"If Mistress doesn't stop pacing, there will be a mark on the floor where she is walking," Pinky gently scolded as I restlessly strode the length of the narrow hallway, "Not that Pinky minds. Pinky can fix it," she added quickly realizing what she had said, restraining herself from batting her head on the wall, a behaviour I strongly disapproved of.

I stopped and turned, examining the little elf. "I'm so bored!" I exclaimed. "I don't know what else to do."

"Why is Mistress having to stay inside? Just because it is awful here doesn't mean it is awful everywhere."

Pinky had a point. I'd been cooped up far too long, and who said that this weather pattern stretched across Britain. I needed to get out. Giving the flustered little elf a quick hug and thanking her, I dashed to the bedroom to change. Pulling a heavy, burgundy, cable knit sweater over a long sleeve t-shirt; I drew my hair back into a low plait. Examining my reflection in the mirror, I was pleased to notice that my standard black jeans had not become too tight over the past month of relative inactivity, but I was paler than usual. _Yes_, I thought. _Fresh air would do me good._ Feeling rather satisfied with myself, I draped my woollen cloak around my shoulders, pulled up the hood, and wrapped a scarf around my neck. Informing Pinky not to worry, I stepped out into the tempest, purposefully strode to the Apparition point near the Dragon Weed patch and Disapparated to a place I hoped would have better conditions.

The sky was overcast, heavy clouds threatened, but no rain fell as I landed in the town square. Instantly, a sense of comfort and relief swelled in my chest. This was one place that I didn't have to hide what I was. No one would look at me oddly if I were to Transfigure a tissue into a pair of gloves or order a Butterbeer at the local pub. Although I didn't come here often, Hogsmeade had become a safe haven even though many shops had closed, and the magical folk eyed strangers with caution. Luckily, the shop that I sought was still open. Honeydukes was bedecked in its finest Halloween splendour. Boxes of Cockroach Clusters rattled on the counter. Blood Pops and Ice Mice were readily on display in clear glass canisters. The assortment of goodies was being replenished as I entered.

The older woman behind the counter nodded to me as I lowered my hood and removed my gloves. "May I help you?" she asked with a friendly smile.

I smiled back and inhaled the sweet smell of the sugary treats. "Chocolate," I breathed. "I have a craving for your chocolate."

"We have a lovely assortment. Is there anything in particular that you're looking for?"

"Almond Bark," I smiled, moving to the glass-enclosed case that held a variety of chocolate covered items.

As the proprietor opened the case and began to scoop some Bark onto a brown sheet of paper, she amiably stated, "You're not from around here. How do you know about our shop?"

"I've been in before," I glanced up. "Whenever I visit Britain, I make it a point to come here."

"Really? You've been here before? I don't recognize you."

I wasn't surprised. The Vagueness Charm was part of my morning routine, and I often forgot that I wore it. "I've only been in a few times. Not often."

As the owner and I spoke, the door bounced open, and three other customers arrived, the last one tripping over the edge of the door frame, knocking into a display of Sugar Quills, nearly tipping them over. The other two had their wands out ready to stop the catastrophe in the works.

"Merlin, Tonks. I swear you'd trip over a spider web on the ground," one exclaimed with a hint of a smile.

The young, mousy-haired witch in a heavy, dark grey and black three-quarter length coat glared at him with slight defeat in her eyes. "Bugger off, Proudfoot," she muttered as she moved further into the shop, but turned to stare out the window.

"I'll be right with you," the owner called to the trio as she wrapped a half-pound of chocolate in the paper and placed it on the counter while I dug out the Sickles for payment.

As the men made their way around the shop, I heard one ask the proprietor if she was ready for tomorrow. She nodded with a smile, replying that Hogsmeade weekends were always busy, and she enjoyed seeing the young people come into town. Halloween and a Hogsmeade weekend, the little village would be bustling.

"Hey, Tonks," the man named Proudfoot called. "What can I get you? Anything you want. Come on, luv. I just want to cheer you up."

The mousy-haired witch turned her head from the window, a deep feeling of sorrow and loss emanating from her, but it was pulled in two directions, as if for two people. She shook her head and returned her gaze to the nearly vacant street. I was on my way out but paused and stood beside her for a moment, following her gaze. I don't know why, but I was drawn to her distress.

"This village is unique," I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her, my accent suddenly becoming thicker in the low tone. "I've traveled a great deal and have encountered many places where magical folk live, but none like this. Even though a war is on, there is still a tight bond in this community. I can feel the energy, the power. I know it's none of my business, but you can't let the oppression take that energy from you. It's equal to admitting defeat."

She turned to stare at me with big, brown eyes, and I chanced a glance into her mind. A full moon shone brightly, and the face of a familiar man hovered in the shadows. She quickly looked away, maybe sensing what I had seen.

"Sometimes," I began cautiously, "when things are too difficult to handle alone, it's easier to rely on someone you can trust, someone you care about to help you through, and sometimes, letting that person in is just as difficult."

She turned her head to me again, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Have faith in yourself. Things happen that are out of our control, but life moves on. It has a way of working out in the end." Tucking the Almond Bark into the inside pocket of my cloak, I turned to the owner again and asked for two small bags of Coconut Crunchies. When she handed them to me, I handed one to the young woman and tucked the other into my pocket with the Bark.

Her eyes clouded over, and she spoke to me for the first time. "How did you know they were my favourite?"

"I didn't," I replied with an upward twitch of my lips. "I took a chance."

Leaving the warm shop and trudging back out into the cold, I could feel the first icy drops of rain begin to fall. Standing on the street, trying to decide where to go next, I made a decision that I hoped would pan out. A quick trip to the grocer filled a small shopping bag, and hiking to the edge of town, I turned toward Hogwarts and began the climb up the gravel pathway toward the trees. Where the path split in two, I turned right and headed for the fenced-in, ramshackle structure on an isolated, gloomy hill. It was early afternoon, and I was taking another chance. I didn't even know if he came here anymore for the change. Pushing the battered, wooden door open, and stepping into the small entryway, I peeled off my ice-laden cloak and shook it before hanging it on the coat tree by the door.

"Remus, are you here?" I called, my fingers crossed.

The old boards from the floor above creaked, and footsteps made their way to the top of the stairs.

"Daniel? Is that you? What are you doing here? You know what day it is?" My friend peered over the tatty railing as I stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"I know. It was an impulse. I ran into a friend of yours in Hogsmeade, and I had a strange desire to talk with you." I climbed the creaky stairs until I was nearly face to face with him.

"A friend of mine? Who?" His brows creased.

"Tonks," I replied watching his expression carefully.

His chest swelled as he drew a slow, deep breath. His jaw tightened, but his eyes softened in the dim light of the hallway. "How is she?" he asked kindly.

"I don't recall ever seeing anyone so sad in my life. If her body could scream from the pain in her heart I'm sure it would." I shook my head as I handed him the groceries and turned him toward the bedroom. "We're going to have a chat, and then I'll make dinner," I informed him as we entered the warm chamber.

Unpacking the shopping bag, I handed Remus the small bag of Coconut Crunchies.

"Mmmm, thanks. My favourite," he replied as he popped one into his mouth, then pulled a vial from his coat pocket, downing the contents.

"A little early, isn't it?" I observed.

"Have you forgotten what I can be like on the afternoon before a full moon?"

My face broke into a huge grin, and I snorted, "Like I could forget? I bet Tonks would enjoy that kind of distraction right now." Remus' cheeks turned scarlet as he lowered his head with a smirk. "Gods, Remus. Shy? With me? We've shared far too much for that."

"Discussing my potential sex life with an ex-girlfriend was not on my list of things to do today," he said awkwardly.

"But, it obviously needs to be discussed." I flopped onto the lounge. "So, what's taking you so long? We've had a similar discussion before, if I recall."

He ducked his head sheepishly but peered at me from under the familiar fringe, a comic look of innocence on his face. I laughed.

"So, talk to me. What's going on? You two obviously have feelings for each other…and don't give me the "there's a war on" story. I'm well aware of that."

"Sirius was her cousin," he began. "She was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange when Sirius intervened and was killed. Somehow, she thinks his death is her fault."

"That's ridiculous." My lips pursed. "That Lestrange woman is a nutter."

"You know her?" Remus asked.

"I admit nothing." I smiled avoiding the question. "But, how does that involve the two of you?"

"We got closer in the aftermath, you know, a bit of comfort after the storm. It was intense." His eyes drifted for a moment, and a small smile flickered on his lips. "And, felt so good."

"And, so, why does she look like she's lost every hope in the world? What did you do?" I demanded.

He pressed his lips together. "I've been working in the forest a lot since the summer. Living rough. Not taking the potion. Many of the pack have sided with You-Know-Who, and I was afraid that she may become a target if it was known that she was associated with me, so I pulled back."

I understood but reached out to cuff him on the side of the head with my right hand anyway. "You dope! She's in mourning for her cousin. She's feeling guilty about his death. You offer her a small ray of sunshine, and then pull the clouds over? What am I going to do with you?" I sighed. "Answer me this, and you better be honest." I shook my finger at him. "A straight yes or no, do you care for her?"

Remus paused, not wanting to answer.

"Yes or no," I bullied.

"Yes," he muttered softly.

"Excuse me." I playfully cupped my hand to my ear. "I'm sorry, that answer was a bit weak. What did you say?"

He grinned and forcefully replied, "Yes."

"And, what are you going to do about it?" I challenged.

In the same forceful tone, he replied with a grin, "I haven't a bloody clue!"

I broke into a fit of laughter. "Good Gods, man. You need help."

As the meal cooked over the fireplace, we sat in comfortable silence. The tempest that I had left behind had, somehow, found me, and was presently lashing the frail clapboards of the rickety, old house. It looked like I'd be spending the night. Remus smacked his lips as he eyed the thick steak. He was thin, and I couldn't tell when he'd eaten a decent meal last, but the meat had barely touched the flame when he announced that it was ready. Mine stayed on for a few moments longer. As I served the meat and root vegetables, I could tell that the wolf was beginning to take over as he devoured the meal within minutes. When we were finished, he warmed himself by the fire and reached out his hand for me to join him.

"It's been a long time since you've seen me change," he began with trepidation.

"I wish there was another way." I shook my head as I stood beside him. "I remember the look on your face the first night you didn't change. You were so happy, but you became so sick. Each adjustment reduced the amount of aconite, and thus, the toxin, but it also reduced the effectiveness of the potion. I wish I could have found an alternative." I wrapped my arms around his waist, placed my head on his chest, and was drawn into a warm hug.

"Becoming a wolf isn't so bad. I still retain who I am. I can still remember and think, and I've adjusted by simply turning in early, unless Dumbledore needs specific information," he snorted. "Then, I'm in the forest with, or most likely without, the potion."

We moved to the lounge again, and I sat in the rear while he leaned his back against my chest, my arms resting on his shoulders. Another moment of peaceful silence.

"Daniel?" I finally mused as I ran my fingers through his greying hair.

Remus shrugged with a grin. "It's what I call you when I'm with my friends. Better they think you're a man. Keeps you safer that way. If that bit of information falls onto the wrong ears, at least maybe they'll think twice about going after you thinking that they'll be confronting a man. A more threatening target."

I smirked at him. "Also easier to explain to a possible girlfriend. Less jealousy if she thinks I'm a man."

Remus smiled. "You know," he started slowly, sighing, and staring into the fire, "You know that I'll always love you." My fingers hesitated in his hair. "But, I think I've finally come to a realization. Yes, I'll always love you. You're very important to me, and I'd be crushed if something was to happen to you, but I'm not "in love" with you. No offence, but that…um…stir…is no longer there."

I felt myself breath a slow sigh of relief, my fingers continuing through his hair. I smiled contently. "I'm glad for you, but you have to let Tonks know how you feel. You deserve to be happy, and by the looks of things, so does she."

He nodded sleepily.

Somewhere amongst the gale and clouds, the moon rose, and Remus changed. I kept the fire stoked, and he stretched and turned three times in front of it before settling with a thump on the threadbare, braided rug. I curled up on the lounge with a book before finally nodding off, the sound of the storm crashing against the warm hideaway.


	49. Chapt 48 Merry Christmas and Happy New Y

**48 – Merry Christmas and Happy New Year…**_**I Think Not**_**.**

The storms of October faded into the dull skies of November, and the search for people from Voldemort's past led from one dead end to another. Those who knew the boy hesitated to speak, and those who knew the man refused. Fear was evident in both, and it was a struggle to find out any information. It wasn't until late December when Albus sent me out again.

A light snow fell turning the grimy streets into something a bit more palatable. It was definitely not a Currier and Ives scene, but the snow, at least, covered the filth that tended to gather at the street corners and in the gutters. I didn't appreciate having to leave the warm and friendly holiday atmosphere in Britain, but Albus had his suspicions, another piece of the puzzle needed to be investigated, and the information, it seemed, was somewhere in this dreary section of the world. Vlore was not a pretty city, certainly not this sector of it, and I really didn't like the idea of returning to Albania, but there had been no other option. Albus was growing weaker and such a trip for him was out of the question. As I sat in the empty, cheaply decorated diner on Christmas Eve, my thoughts turned to a cheerier atmosphere and the meal that I was missing: Emily's annual holiday dinner of roast turkey with savoury stuffing and cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy and mixed vegetable, a brandied plum pudding for dessert. My mouth watered. Even those staying at Hogwarts over the holidays would be treated to brightly decorated halls and a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. I stared at my lukewarm bowl of cabbage soup served in a cracked bowl with a fuzzy, stale roll. This diner was the only food establishment open tonight, and there seemed to be no hope of getting anything better anytime soon. My abrupt departure from England had prevented the packing of any supplies beyond what was essential, and as I swirled the unappetizing swill around the bowl, the waitress eyed me with contempt. She obviously wanted to go home. Thinking of the task ahead, home is where I wanted to be as well.

The snow crunched pleasantly underfoot, and the sun shone brightly overhead. It wasn't too cold, just a crisp nip in the air, and if I didn't have such a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I may have enjoyed the walk. The sensation could have been brought on by the meagre cabbage soup that had been last night's dinner, or that there was no place open on Christmas morning to get breakfast in this abandoned part of the world, or maybe, it was the horrid memory of watching Voldemort being born to that huge snake not too far from here a few years ago, or the fact that I would rather be absolutely anywhere else at the moment. Drawing my shoulders back determinedly, I pushed negative thoughts from my mind, and pressed on. Trudging the unused path through the Dark Forest past a familiar clearing to a deserted cave at the base of a mountain, I sent out empathic feelers to note if anything dared to venture into this area. There was nothing, not even a bird. What I would give to have Stark with me right now, but he hadn't been around when the order was given, therefore he had no method of following.

Kneeling at the shrub-covered entrance, I pushed the brittle brambles aside and crawled in. The stale stench was overwhelming, and I gagged before my olfactory senses could adjust. _"Lumos" _lit the tip of my wand, and the inside of the cave glowed with the dim light. The nest remained in the centre of the lair; remnants of the last meals littered the ground around it, cobwebs coated the walls and hung in silky strands from the ceiling. I crawled in further, brushing a sticky thread from my face, and sat near the old nest, closing my eyes, letting the impression of the cave and the resonance of its former inhabitants fill me. Of all places, why had he come here? We had discovered that he had visited the area as a young adult. Did he return because of its familiarity? Did he feel secure here? Or, was he looking for something? The stillness of the stone walls echoed with a faint residue of past energies, a residual effect that had faded over the years. Hopes. Plans. Schemes. I listened to what the walls remembered.

When I emerged from the cave, the sun was low on the horizon. I headed back to my simple room, stopping at a small deli on the way to purchase a Kaiser roll stuffed with corned beef and mustard and a bottle of juice, thanking the deities that something was finally open. Climbing the rickety stairs of the hotel, I let myself in and began to pace the worn, grey-green carpet, processing the information from the day and planning my next step. I would have to revisit the forest. Mother Earth had given up some of her secrets today. It shouldn't be hard to press for more.

The following day found me at the small clearing near the cave. Drawing a wide circle in the thin layer of snow and placing crystals at the Elemental points, I knelt in the centre, facing north, facing the "Wise One". My hands ran under the cold, white blanket, and my energies stirred her body, waking her from her slumber.

"Dearest Guardian of the North, Mother Earth, Ancient Wise One,

I honour your life and respect your power.

Your presence is required for only you hold the truth."

Positioned on my hands and knees, I waited for a response. The earth trembled lightly under my touch, the delicate layer of snow on the bushes nearby being knocked off. I smiled. Standing, I moved to the other Elements, raising my hands to shoulder height and spreading my fingers to the wind in the east, turning and raising my fists to the fiery sky of the south, moving to the calm west with cupped hands at waist level, calling on each Guardian for their guidance. Each responded with a gentle signal that I would not face this task alone.

"Gentle Guardians," I called. "This forest holds secrets of a man who once lived here, one who has caused fear and harm to others. He continues to create dissension, the source of violent imbalance in our world. I seek your counsel in order to stop the discord. What secrets can you share?"

The wind rustled in the treetops, and the sun dipped behind a cloud. The earth was still and calm. It was as if they were confiding with each other. I stood still, open to their powers, feet at hip width, palms turned up at my sides, head tipped toward the sky. I waited, breathing steadily, accepting anything they had to offer. Moments passed, and then it came. A slow trickle of senses. Anxious. Excited. Youthful. Old. The trees parted, and a path appeared leading deeper into the forest. I followed. After walking for about half an hour, I came to a very large oak with a hollowed base. Kneeling at the foundation and placing my hands on its exposed roots, I focused on the energies of the tree. Betrayal. Emotional pain. Something of great importance that had been stolen. Something once hidden but now was gone. Empathic power doesn't see visions but relies on the senses to feel events. This event was ancient, hundreds of years old, but somehow the Guardians connected it to my request. Time passed, and the sun began to sink in the west. The wind rose slightly, stirring me into motion. Rising and returning to the hotel, I got the feeling that this was just the beginning. I had been invited to return.

Lying on the prickly brown and yellow wool blanket on the single bed, I stared at the streetlights flickering on the dirty, stucco ceiling, going over the information gathered that day. A primeval hiding place with a treasure long gone. Ancient anger and frustration overlapped with newer elation and self-righteousness. A young woman's fear and a young man's exhilaration. Centuries apart. What had been hidden, and what had been found? I drifted into a restless sleep, unseen images casting shadows at the edge on my consciousness. Tomorrow would be another day.

I joined the Guardians in the forest for the next few days, following their clues and accepting their guidance, more light being shed on the mystery. Each day, I was lead deeper and deeper into the dark woods, the trees becoming thicker, the feeling more ominous. It was obvious that the man I sought had been comfortable here, moving with confidence, but it wasn't until the third day when the earth finally exposed its most sinister secret. Crudely buried in a dense section of the forest, amongst thick roots, fallen branches, and moss, where no snow could reach, was a shallow grave that had been dug up by the few creatures that dared to inhabit the area. Some bones were missing, but the evidence of a human skeleton was obvious. Matted, long greying hair clung to the decomposing mass. Little clothing was left, having been shredded and decayed over the years, but the body was clearly female. It was a gruesome sight, and my stomach churned. Kneeling beside the half buried corpse, I reached out but couldn't bring myself to touch the bones. _Goddess, please help me_. I fought to keep my stomach calm. With my shaky hands outstretched over the corpse, I focused on any lingering energy, while a faint white aura formed around us heightening my power, and releasing any remaining force from the body. It possessed a definite magical presence. She had been a witch. Lost, confused and frightened. Albus had mentioned a Ministry witch who had disappeared in the area several years ago after meeting a man at an inn. Could this be her? As I sat on my heels, the body moved, and I jumped. The Goddess remained with me, steadying me, while Mother Earth swallowed the corpse, and the wind covered the plot with dead leaves and branches. Rising on weak legs, the Guardians gently lead me from the forest, a sense of completion filling my mind.

I'm not certain how I got back to the hotel, but after stripping off the grimy clothes, I fell into the musty sheets, and slept through until the next evening.

"Bertha Jorkins," Albus replied, the long fingers of his good hand toying with the braided string that held his long, white beard together. "She was an average witch, not terribly bright, but not dim either. She did tend to gossip, however. Never could hold a secret. My guess is that Voldemort thought she would provide information easily regarding events taking place in Britain and with the Ministry. He was right, of course, and I suppose the poor woman paid for her indiscretion." He shook his head sadly, a look of deep thought on his wizened face. "You also mentioned a tree."

"Yes. It once held something of importance. The more I reflect on it, the more I get the impression of Ravenclaw." I shook my head, thinking. "But, not of the founder herself, someone she was close to, someone who had betrayed her, but not a lover, a family member, maybe. I got the feeling of frustration and anger, as well. These feelings were ancient, but overlapped with a newer sense of discovery and elation."

"Like whatever was hidden was found," Albus muttered, staring blankly at the low fire crackling on the grate, in the sitting room.

"Yes, but not by Ravenclaw, by someone else. This was all in relation to a request to the Guardians regarding Voldemort. Do you know what the item might be, or of anyone who may know?"

"Possibly," Albus responded absently as he raised his wand to his temple, withdrawing a shimmering, silver strand, placing it in a small crystal bottle that waited on the table.

I sat back in the oversized armchair; my head resting against the wide wing, watching my grandfather give up the memories and carefully seal them in the vials. He was thinking. I knew that he was working with the Potter boy, trying to prepare him for what lay ahead, and he was gathering memories as a tool. I agreed; the more you knew about your opponent, the better prepared you were to fight. I sighed and unconsciously shivered at what I had experienced over the past week. Albus took notice.

"I am truly sorry for what you've been through," he uncharacteristically expressed. "I am surprised that Bertha was disposed of so indelicately. But, I presume, as Voldemort's servant, Pettigrew never expected anyone to wander so deeply into the Dark Forest."

"Not something I'm up to doing again anytime soon, either," I smirked. "Awful place." Silence surrounded us for a moment, the snap of the fire being the only sound on the cold morning. "How is Severus?" I spoke gently, thoughts drifting to the man I loved and missed.

"I am concerned," Albus solemnly replied, resting his head against the back of the chair. "Young Draco Malfoy has been recruited to serve the Dark Lord and has been given a task."

My eyebrows rose suddenly. "Isn't he too young?"

"Indeed," he answered sounding exhausted. "But, I believe this is retribution for his father's miscalculations at the Ministry last summer. The task, according to Severus, is a difficult one, and one I believe Voldemort does not expect the boy to accomplish."

"Then, why give it?"

Albus' gaze was penetrating, knowing, but he avoided the question. "Severus has made an Unbreakable Vow with young Malfoy's mother. If Draco fails, Severus will perform the task."

"And, what is the task?" I drawled cautiously, eyeing the old man suspiciously.

"To kill me," he replied with amusement.

My jaw dropped as I sat bolt straight in my seat. "You know this, and you've done nothing to stop it?"

"The task itself is inconsequential. I'm going to die anyway, and I've asked both you and Severus to perform the task should the necessity arise. Now, it will be certain that if Draco does not fulfil his duty to the Dark Lord, Severus will, increasing his status within the inner circle. It's Draco's method in which he plans to accomplish the task that concerns me. Severus has had a close relationship with the boy over the years, but the boy's growing arrogance has overshadowed that relationship. He refuses to confide in Severus, believing that Severus will, shall we say, steal his thunder. The boy has been careless, and others have been injured in his attempt to get to me. A female student remains in the hospital."

"Do you want me to check on her?" My concern was genuine.

"No," he sighed dismissively. "She touched a cursed item. It is not your specialty, but thank you for the offer." He sighed again, his silent, serious gaze penetrating to my soul. He looked so poignant. "I have asked so much of you, and you have given so freely, more often than not, without question. You and Severus have made so many sacrifices for so many years. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what? Trying to keep people safe?"

"For interfering in your lives and keeping you apart, for the loss of your parents, your home, and your child, so many things…" His thought trailed as he diverted his eyes beyond the fireplace. He was trying to make amends in the little time he had left.

A melancholy stillness filled the room as we both stared into nothing. He had a point. I had been born to this role. My original name – Alicia Lacosa – was ancient Etruscan for, "to live for the cause". I had been trained by my parents, then by my grandfather, and then by Masters in very specific fields. My life had indeed been for "the cause", and he had taken full advantage, using my skills as he needed.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one," I quietly stated. "But, I have to admit, I anxiously await for when this is all over. Maybe Severus and I can salvage some time that we have left. He's never said this, but I know it rests on his mind. He doesn't think that he'll survive the final confrontation."

"Does he know that you suspect?" Albus turned his head toward me, pale blue eyes glistening.

"No. I want him to have hope, something to hold onto. I, too, must understand his position. It's always been precarious."

Albus' head tipped forward in the semblance of a nod, and the silence enfolded us again.


	50. Chapt 49 Static In The Air

**49 –Static In The Air**

_Hurry up and untie it._ Stark's impatience was evident.

"Are you late for an appointment? Am I keeping you from something? You disappear for days on end, without explanation…" My exasperation was clear as Stark ruffled his feathers indignantly and pecked the back of my hand in annoyance. "That wasn't nice," I scolded sharply, pulling my hand back and rubbing the peck mark. "What's your problem?"

_I want to go back, _he insisted with irritation_._

I gazed at my feathered friend with confusion as I untied the missive. He seemed very concerned. "What's wrong, Stark? You're not usually like this. I didn't think you liked being there. You always said the Dark One wasn't very nice."

_He needs me_. _He says I help calm him down. He likes to stroke my head and back_. Stark craned his glossy neck proudly. _He's all alone, and he's asked me to help him_.

"Help him do what? Can you tell me?" I curiously asked, easing back in the large armchair, toying with the cylinder.

_Things are happening at the school. Bad things, and he wants me to keep an eye on one of his students._

"A blond boy?" I sat straighter. Could it be Malfoy junior?

_Yes_, Stark replied. _He's doing something sneaky, and Master wants to know what_.

"Have you been successful? Have you found anything out?" This was an interesting turn.

_Some things. Are you going to open that?_ Stark pecked at the missive._ I waited while he wrote it. He thought about it for a long time._

My brows furrowed at the rapid change of subject, but I slid a crisp, cream parchment from the small, black cylinder and unrolled it. A slender one-ounce, light green, crystal bottle slid into my palm. With the bottle in my left hand, I flattened the parchment on my lap with my right.

_Glistening oils of gold and green,_

_A pip of grain cannot be seen._

_Shake it well and dab the heart,_

_A touch, a smell, a beat, a start._

_Happy Valentine's_

_S_

I held the minute bottle to the light, the rays reflecting a rainbow on the far wall of the sitting room. Uncorking it and lifting it to my nose, it held a light floral scent, not overpowering, but interestingly familiar. I placed my finger over the opening and tipped the bottle upside down for a moment. Doing as the note suggested, I dabbed the oil to my heart, which suddenly thudded hard in my chest. Instantly, I was filled with a warm sensation, a feeling of pure comfort, like strong arms wrapping around my body, holding me tight. A hug. Severus had sent a hug. My eyes closed, and my mouth crept upward until I was grinning foolishly. I dabbed my heart again, and the warmth intensified, seeping through my body and extending to the erogenous zones. _This could be addictive_, I thought roguishly sinking into the soft cushions. I wondered if he had liked his gift. It had been sent by Post owl, from Hogsmeade, the day before: two, black, silk scarves with a note and a promise to use them on our next visit. _This oil and the scarves could make for an interesting evening,_ I mused. An impatient nudge on my arm roused me from my reverie. Stark was perched on the arm of the chair, his head cocked to one side, curiously watching me.

_I want to get back. He needs me,_ he insisted again.

Rising to open the sitting room window, I thanked my friend and hoped that he would be able to continue to help Severus. Stroking Stark's head and back, I brought my face level with his and kissed his long, black beak. I was rewarded with a nudge of his head against my cheek; true affection between us regardless of our moods. As he turned on the ledge, his wings spread, and I wished him a safe flight. As the up-draught caught his wings, he lifted onto the morning breeze, heading back to the Dark One who wasn't very nice but who needed him.

The uncomfortable irritation continued, and we were well into March when the odd sensation increased, like I was supposed to be doing something but couldn't remember what. It was an itchy feeling, like static, and it made me irritable. Finally, it was Pinky who reminded me of the date and that I needed to contact the Italian Ministry somehow. My year was almost up. The sabbatical was almost over. A decision had to be made. The position of Head of Research in the Department of Experimental and Medicinal Potions was still mine if I wanted it. I had had very little contact with the Italian Ministry over the past year, not wanting to be distracted from the immediate task at hand, but now I had to think of the future. Did I really want to return to the drudge of an office? Or, did I want to explore independent research once again? The thought of independent work was very appealing, but where did Albus need me? Here or there? As the March winds began to warm the chill air, the need to make a decision grew more imminent. Sending a message to Albus, we planned to meet on Ostara in the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't leave the school at the moment, but my need to speak with him was pressing.

It was very dark when I arrived at the outer boundary. Entering on a little known path, I had to move quickly and carefully so not to alert the Centaurs who had become very territorial. Jogging the familiar trail to a clearing where I had once met Firenze, in the Potter boy's first year, when Voldemort had returned in Quirrell, I approached the appointed area. Hushed but angry voices could be heard above the rustling of the trees. Creeping closer until I recognized them, I waited silently at the edge of the glade, not wanting to interrupt.

"You ask too much, and expect that I will simply follow your command. I can't do it anymore," Severus' voice was clear and sharp. He had obviously had enough.

"You made a commitment. You must see it through." Albus was the second voice. He was firm, and there would be no argument. After a brief pause, he continued, "How is your investigation progressing within your house?"

I unconsciously scratched my collarbone feeling the static increase as Severus spoke. "The boy refuses to confide in me. I have had to resort to other methods of investigation. He has help – Crabbe and Goyle – but I do not believe that even they know the boy's intention. I am certain that he has shared his scheme with no one," Severus hissed sounding frustrated.

"That's not good enough. No one else can be hurt." I could see Albus angrily pace the small clearing, the edge of his dark robe rustling in the forest debris.

"One less Weasley would be no loss," Severus snarked, receiving a stony glare from the old man.

"Harry said that Professor Slughorn intended to give _me_ that bottle, and yet, once again, I never received it. Luck, it seems, is on my side, but Draco is careless, and his carelessness is harming far too many others. He is inefficient." I could see Albus shake his head with growing exasperation. There was silence for a moment and then Albus tipped his head toward the sky and the bright half moon. "She should be here by now," he muttered absently in a low voice.

"Who?" Severus asked, and then turned sharply to face the patriarch, a defiant look on his face. "No. Not here. It's too dangerous."

"She's only coming to the forest. There is something that needs to be discussed."

"I would like to stay," Severus' voice softened slightly.

"By all means," Albus invited as I strolled from the edge of the clearing, out of the shadow and into the light of the moon.

I smiled at my husband, but received an emotionless stare in return. We both glanced at Albus who replied with an upward twitch of his lips, "Don't let me stop you."

Within three steps, I was in my lover's arms, feeling his chest rise and fall against my cheek as it rested on the thick frock coat. His head lowered to caress the side of face with his chin as his hands ran the length of my spine. After a moment, we broke apart, taking a step back. I thanked him for the Valentine's gift and smirked that I was still waiting to use the one I'd sent him. His near-permanent scowl, twitched, and the deep lines around his mouth and eyes shifted as a small smile grew. His onyx eyes glistened with hope.

"What is so important that you needed to speak with me?" Albus broke our spell.

I glanced at Severus, then calmly but firmly stated, "My sabbatical will be over at the end of the month. I must make a decision. Do I return to Italy and resume my post, or do I stay here and continue to help piece this puzzle together?"

Both men watched me intently, processing the information, but it was Albus who spoke. "There is little you can do at the moment. I have received another clue but must investigate it myself. You're help is always welcome, but I will not interfere with this decision. You are free to do as you will."

This was a strange turn of events. Albus was letting me decide for myself? No plan? No ulterior motive? Did this have something to do with our conversation in January? I was confused and glanced at Severus for support or guidance, but he kept his countenance unemotional, not wanting to influence my decision. This was not helping! The air crackled again, an uncomfortable sensation surrounding the area. It was an odd feeling for Ostara, the time of new beginnings and clear thought. The time when seeds are sown and the earth prepares for renewed life. Exhilaration is usually felt, not irritation. I stayed for a few more minutes, neither man issuing an opinion, neither stating what they had been doing or offering an alternative to what needed to be done.

Frustration turned to determination as I strode from the forest that night. My mind cleared and a decision was made. Deep in my heart, I knew it was the right one.


	51. Chapt 50 Letting Go

**50 – Letting Go**

"Ho proceduto la vostra richiesta e non prevedo alcuni problemi che ottengono l'articolo. I ringraziamenti a voi, il divieto sono stati alzati. Il laboratorio sta studiando la pianta ma sono stati molto prudenti con esso. È pericoloso."

Carmen was as efficient as ever, processing my request for a double order of Tridask Thoren for a special project. I knew that it was still a restricted item, but she managed to procure it in record time, along with a few other items on my wish list. Our heels clicked against the black and white tile floor as we purposefully strode the corridor through the mass of cubicles to the labs at the far end of the large room. Heads still popped over and around the edges as I passed, and the twittering was never-ending.

"Ignorili. Sono difettosi come erano mai," my old friend instructed as we passed the gossips. Ignoring the hags wasn't a problem. I had been doing it for years.

Reaching the end of the cubicles and turning the corner toward the labs, I was struck with the sense of deja vu. Of the fourteen years that I had been associated with the Ministry, I had probably only worked in this building for about half that time: the early years right after my apprenticeship, the period of the virus scare in Britain during the first war when Saxon was a baby, then the several years following my doctorate. Yet, even then, I bounced between various tasks that took me away from the office. Finally, there was the transfer to the British Ministry to work on a cooperative project based there. As much as I loved Rome and was appreciative of the Ministry for their unyielding support over the years, there was no longer a feeling of comfort or camaraderie here. I was an outsider. People had made bonds, and I wasn't among them. Carmen and my supervisor were the only exceptions. They were always kind, but the wizard who had replaced me this past year, who had once been my partner, had turned chill. He had been in charge of the administrative end of things while I worked on research. During my absence, he had successfully balanced both roles, and resented, quite openly, my return. My homecoming hadn't been a surprise. My sabbatical was over, and the supervisor had informed the team that I was returning. I suppose, it was an adjustment for all of us.

The door to the main lab opened, and the conversation in the room immediately halted, the junior technicians ducking their heads and scurrying off to accomplish some meaningful task elsewhere. I headed for my desk and piled the files that I was carrying neatly on the corner while my colleague eyed me with contempt from across the room. Carmen glanced back and forth between us before handing me the last file, leaning close and whispering, "good luck" as she retreated out the door.

There was a frosty silence as I lowered myself into the heavy, leather captain's chair. Taking a deep breath and not breaking eye contact with my counterpart, I stated, "You resent me." The direct approach was always best when dealing with conflict and someone had to start this conversation_,_ I reasoned.

He pursed his lips and glared at me, leaning his backside against the workstation. "I've done an excellent job in your absence," he defended himself.

I met his glare with a softer look. "Has anyone said otherwise? I was the one to recommend you for the post."

"No, but I enjoyed the position. I'm not fond of being a subservient in the lab again." His tone was sharp.

"Well, then," I leaned back in the chair, steepling my fingers under my chin, ready to gage his response, "you'll be pleased to know that I'm not staying." I twitched a crooked smile at the shocked expression that the news had generated. "I only came back to tie up some loose ends, finish a few outstanding projects and clear out my desk. I can't do this." I snorted as I waved a hand at the sterile room. "I've enjoyed the independence as much as you've enjoyed being in charge."

His expression softened as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why didn't you say something?"

I shrugged dismissively. "The supervisor asked me not to until our meeting this afternoon was over. There were a few things that needed to be ironed out, and I need some supplies for a project that I want to work on. The Ministry has agreed to lend a hand, as long as they get first crack at whatever I produce," I smirked "Now that the meeting is over, I'm free to speak. There are a few things left to finish, and I'll be around until the end of the month. Do you think we can be civil for the duration?"

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "Please accept my apologies. I must have appeared to be quite disagreeable." I raised an amused eyebrow at the understatement as he pushed himself away from the workstation and strode toward my desk with an outstretched hand. "We did work well together." He took my hand in his, a smile of relief filling his face. "Independent work. You always did like to be on your own."

"That's why coming back here was so difficult," I confided. "I'm not much of a people person. If you recall, my nickname was "lab rat"."

He winced at the words. "So I'd heard," he admitted.

In what little spare time I had, I wandered the once familiar city, visiting Strada di Stegra in Wizard Rome, Trevi Market, and Piazza Nova, walking along the Tiber River and stopping at the magnificent fountains throughout the city. Of all the places, however, my favourite was the Forum, near the status of Septimus Severus and the Curia. It was where Severus and I met for our first "public appearance", when he took me to Wizard Rome to meet his Master and introduce me to the man who would become mine. Strolling the path between the ancient monuments, memories flooded my mind. I missed the freedom of those days when we thought that secrecy was not as critical. But, what had it led to? Carelessness and the death of our son. I shook my head from the memory. I had been to visit Saxon's grave during the first week of my return only to hear the town gossip of how odd it seemed that the small plot was always well-kept and free of weeds, although few visited it. Kneeling by the gravesite, I had touched the minute, purple, Dragon Weed buds and thanked the Guardians for watching over my little boy. Stark had curiously followed on this trip and sat proudly on the headstone, as if he belonged there. _Funny bird. _When I left the cemetery, I made my way across the town square to another familiar spot – the Camptas Bakery. It had been many years since my old friends had run the shop, but their nephew and his family kept the tradition, and the yeasty smell of breads and cinnamon wafted through the open door. The young, blonde girl behind the counter was unfamiliar and informed me that Signore Antonio Campta, the old patriarch, was ill and the family had gathered to be with him. My heart hit the inside of my ribcage, and I asked if she would relay a message to the family that I was there. Disappearing through the kitchen, I could hear her climb the back stairs to the apartment above. After a few moments, Anna entered the shop and drew me into a warm hug. It had been many years since we'd seen each other. She was the Campta's niece and had taken care of Saxon when I returned to the Ministry during the virus epidemic. She led me through the kitchen and to the upstairs room.

It was a sad sight to see. Signore Campta, the once robust, energetic baker had been like a surrogate father. He and his wife had welcomed me into their home and shared their lives with me while I rented their small, stone cottage at the base of the Alps. They had helped me grow strong again after being abused in the first war, had been patient and supportive when I insisted on being alone, had rallied round me during my pregnancy, and had cared for Saxon like a grandson. It was their strength that had helped me get through Saxon's death and Severus leaving.

When I entered the room, I was distressed to see him so weak and frail. Laying in the bed that he and his wife had shared for over sixty years, the blankets were lovingly tucked around his aged body. His head feebly turned for a moment when I entered, recognition reflecting in his watery, black eyes. Signora Campta, a stout woman with steel-grey hair pulled back in a low bun, rose from his bedside, waddled across the room, and silently took my hands in hers, the tears shimmering as she greeted me. Leading me to a chair beside hers, we wordlessly sat together through the night, while the family congregated in the room. I was able to do a quick empathic scan and knew that nothing could be done. Muggles were so fragile, their life spans so much shorter than magical folk. He was old, and his organs were failing. In the early hours of morning, when the moon shone brightly illuminating the dark sky, I saw what no Muggle could see; a shimmering white mist rose from Signore Campta's body, a hazy impression of his form being drawn into another realm. He was leaving us. As the apparition rose above the bed, I watched, and he noticed that only I bore witness. He smiled kindly and placed his hand on his heart in a loving gesture. Then, he reached for his wife who was still sitting by his side, holding his hand, unaware of what was transpiring. He stretched out a ghostly finger to caress her cheek, and she startled at the touch, her left hand rising to the cool spot, then she placed her right hand on her husband's chest. A devastating wail echoed through the chamber as the old woman's heart broke. Family gathered around the bed quickly, tears shed freely for their patriarch. I wrapped my arm around the old woman's shoulders as she wept and glanced upward, acknowledging the apparition floating above. Both his hands where at his chest in a proud stance as he watched his family grieve. He nodded to me and blew a kiss toward his wife, then disappeared in a bright, white, light that opened briefly in the midnight sky. My heart went out to the family. He had been a remarkable man: kind and generous to a fault, an absolute pillar of strength that all could lean on and often did. His loss would be felt by many.

I stayed with the Signora for the next few days, giving her space to grieve but letting her know that I was there for her. She would occasionally pull out an old photo album, and we would sit and flip through the pages until she could no longer see through the tears. The family came and went, checking on their treasured mother, grandmother, and aunt, preparing for a funeral that the entire town would attend. When the funeral was over, I prepared to leave with a promise to return before I went home. She tapped my check lightly, calling me a "good girl", and drew me into an affectionate hug. I could feel it then, in my heart. I knew that she would soon follow her husband, the separation was too great, and before the buds on the lilacs could flower at the end of April, she, too, quietly slipped away in her sleep, not two weeks after her beloved Antonio.

The cork popped and flew half way across the room, ricocheting off a storage cabinet, and dinging into a silver cauldron on the centre workstation.

"I've always wanted to do that," my supervisor chuckled as Carmen held out a couple of champagne flutes.

It was a private party…of sorts: the supervisor, Carmen, my replacement, and me. The Minister poked his head in for a moment to wish me luck, but couldn't stay. The others, well, those that were in attendance knew my relationship with them and respected that dividing line.

"To a bright future." The supervisor raised his glass to make the first toast.

"To being happy," Carmen added, and the glasses clinked again.

"To no longer being called a "lab rat"," my colleague snorted as Carmen rolled her eyes, and my supervisor let out a hearty laugh.

"To having friends who know what matters in life." I smiled at the small group.

We drank, and the glasses were refilled.

"So, I know that you have plans, but is there anything in particular that you can share? You know that we are interested in whatever you produce," my supervisor commented casually but with intent.

"I was working on something at St. Mungo's Hospital in London before the sabbatical. It had reached a dead end, but it's been bothering me, and I think I'd like to continue the investigation," I replied thoughtfully. They were silent, expecting to hear more. "Same field as before, neural pathways, spell injuries. I'd like to start there."

"The Magpie experiment?" my colleague questioned.

"Yes, among others," I answered.

"Fascinating," Carmen confirmed.

"We've finished that one, and we've given you the notes that you're missing, but I understand that the injuries at St. Mungo's are more serious than here," my colleague continued. "Now that you're all rested, you should be able to expand it. I've met a few people from the Society of Potions Masters who were asking about you. They hold you in high esteem but had lost contact. You really did cut yourself off from everyone didn't you?"

I smiled and nodded.

The conversation faded eventually, and after our "good-byes", I headed back to the small Ministry-owned apartment to finish packing, reducing my bags to a more manageable size. There wasn't much, but the lab had relinquished some of their supplies in support of my work. They had also signed out a Portkey to transport me back to London. From London, I would Apparate home. Stark had left that morning, and Pinky followed shortly after I returned from the Ministry. She wanted to "get the house ready". I had to smile at her efficiency. I didn't know what I'd do without her. On my last night in Rome, my last night in Italy, I sat by the window of the small flat staring out over the Tiber River. The stars were muted in the light pollution of the metropolis, and the moon sat low in the sky and could not be seen for the buildings. The noise of the motorcycles, cars, and people filtered up and into the room. _This_, I would not miss. Sleep was restless that night, and an early start was decided for the next day.

The back garden of the Cumberland safe house never looked so good. The Dragon Weed was in bloom, and the faint purple aura indicated the protection of the house and its occupants. It felt so good to be here, to be home. Opening the back door, I stepped into the tiny, dark kitchen and noticed a bouquet of Dragon Weed and deep, red roses in a tall, clear glass vase in the middle of the hardwood table. The scent was interestingly familiar. Curiously wandering down the hall to the sitting room, I found another vase of Dragon Weed and roses on an occasional table near the window, the aura reflecting a shade of mauve against the wall.

"Pinky?" I called for the tiny elf had not greeted me when I arrived. "Pinky, where are you? The flowers are lovely."

"I'm glad you approve," a velvet voice purred from the bedroom doorway, a handful of black silk clutched in his hand. "I wasn't expecting you so soon. Pinky is at Hogwarts."

"Sorry to interrupt." I grinned, nodding toward the fabric. "But, I couldn't stay away any longer. So much has happened. I needed to be home. What's she doing there?" I added curiously.

"I thought we could use the privacy, and Albus wanted to speak with her," Severus replied, moving toward me. His frock coat was nowhere to be seen, and his crisp, white, linen shirt was open at the collar. "I arrived about an hour ago, and Pinky told me about the Camptas. They were good people."

I nodded but could feel my throat constrict. Their loss had hit me hard. When he was within reach, I fingered the silk and inhaled the scent. Aha, the oil. "So, what is it you had in mind?" I smirked trying to shake off the approaching depression.

The black fabric was wrapped around the back of my neck, and I was gently pulled forward until our noses met. Still holding the ends of the scarf, he reached down and tenderly kissed my lips, brushing them so lightly that it tickled with anticipation. This felt so good, so right. This is where I belonged. Returning the kiss, I backed him into the bedroom, and he sat on the edge of the bed. Kicking off our shoes, we climbed onto the bed fully clothed. Snuggling under his protective arm, my right hand resting lightly on his chest, I could feel the strength of his heart beating. Talking quietly, he stroked my hair, and we toyed with the silk, and in the comforting arms of the man I loved, in a house that actually felt like a home, the emotional exhaustion that I had felt for so long finally caught up with me, and I did something that I hadn't done in many years. I cried.

Bright sunshine shone through the bedroom window and a mixed smell of spices and meat drifted through the air. Rubbing my eyes and running a hand through my tangled hair, I groggily sat up and glanced around the room. The spare quilt from the end of the bed had been placed over me, and I pushed it back as I moved to stand. Toddling down the narrow hall to the kitchen, I stopped in the archway watching the formidable Professor Snape with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a tea towel tucked into the front of his trousers stirring a pot on the cooker. As he turned to place a plate of rolls to the table, he noticed my presence.

"Good afternoon," he began flatly with a raised left eyebrow. "I don't know whether to be relieved that you're all right or insulted that you fell asleep when I had such plans for you."

"I'm sorry. I guess it was a bit too much to handle."

"Evidently," he snorted. "That was unlike you. You're usually a very active participant." He turned to stir the pot on the stove, and then returned his attention to me. "You're very thin and pale. Did they not feed you? I thought Italians loved their food," Severus belittled as he scooped a hearty soup into deep bowls. "Sit. Eat." He firmly invited as he brought the bowls to the table. I did as I was told.

"Which edible potions experiment is this?" I asked playfully dipping the spoon into what looked like hamburger soup.

"Number two hundred and fifty six," he deadpanned with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Ahh, it's very good." I took a sip of the meal. "Although, number one hundred and twenty was my favourite," I continued the game.

"Really, I always thought you preferred number forty-two," he added with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

I snorted into the bowl. "Oh, you really don't want me to continue this do you? You know which number I like," I chuckled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he advised looking as innocent as Severus Snape could. It was quite comical. "I thought we were talking about my culinary skills."

"Which are excellent, caro. Thank you." I smiled across the table to my husband who rewarded me with a smile in return.

The meal was finished, the table was cleared, and the scarves and oil were finally used…and used, and by early evening, it was time for Severus to return to the castle. Our conversation that afternoon had ranged from the multiple uses of black silk, to my last month in Italy, to Draco's ineffective attempts to get to Albus, to Albus' lessons with Harry, to what I was planning to create next. Severus' position had increased with the Dark Lord, and he had risen within the inner circle, being given very distinct duties. Life had become even more tense.

Standing at the back door, wrapped only in a bathrobe, I lovingly straightened his collar and ran my hands down the front of his coat, my fingers feeling the long row of tiny buttons. _One good spell and they could all be undone again,_ I thought roguishly. But, alas, his duty to the cause overruled my desire to keep him close, and after a thorough kiss "good-bye", he Disapparated from the back garden, both acknowledging that dark times were indeed ahead.


	52. Chapt 51 Destiny

**51 – Destiny**

A standard, size two, iron cauldron bubbled gently over a medium-low flame as double pinky-purple wisps floated upward toward the heavily-beamed, stone ceiling. The room was small and dark with only the glow of the wall sconces and brewing flames giving light. I sat on a tall stool at the cramped, battle-scarred work counter, flipping through the notes of my latest experiment. Supplies from the Italian Ministry had started this project, and the delicate, pale pink Dianthus that had been gathered earlier in the week would add the final touch. The now-dry petals of the wild flower sat in a palm-sized porcelain bowl, near the ingredients cupboard at the far left of the table, waiting to be used. I surmised that the crystallized nectar should take the bitterness from the Tridask Thoren casing, leaving the potion with a more palatable taste. Always in search of a pleasantly ingestible remedy, I sought out specific additives to brew into the mix. The Dianthus had a light taste of sweet cloves and was also known to be a mild anti-inflammatory. It reacted well with the other ingredients, enhancing but not overpowering the Magpie mushrooms.

Upon my return from Italy, I had visited St. Mungo's and noticed that patients who had been part of the Magpie study a year ago had shown little improvement. The study was still deadlocked by the British Ministry's stagnant concept of progress. Thankfully, the Italian Ministry had completed the study, and during my final month, we produced a potion that was successful. Its introduction to the staff at St. Mungo's was met with enthusiasm, and I spent several weeks showing a team of researchers the brewing method. By the end of May, patients were finally administered the potion, and the results, although slow in manifesting, were noticeable. However, it was noted that spell damage in some patients was not as serious as in others and had simply caused particular neural pathways to swell, therefore blocking the messages being sent to and from the brain. It was not the dramatic shut down that we had been focusing on. Wizard Healers were often baffled by the intricate functions of the brain, and therefore, frequently overlooked the simplicity of the cause.

The potion I was presently working on would shrink the swelling in lieu of a counter-curse, and as some individuals reacted aggressively to the thought of being cast upon again, it was a valid alternative. I stretched my back and sat straight, sliding from the stool and moving gradually toward the cauldron. It should be ready for the next step soon. I smiled. Leisurely adding the dry Dianthus petals to the brew, I watched the concoction bubble and hiss, turning a perfect shade of fuchsia.

May had passed quietly and a light rain fell for the third day in a row, soaking the grounds and making work in the tiny, cellar laboratory a joy. It felt good to be productive again.

The simple, double-paned windows of the sitting room were drawn open allowing the warm June breeze to drift in, rustling the thick, dark blue curtains. I had spent the day at St. Mungo's testing the new potion on a few volunteer patients. So far, the results were positive, but the Healer on duty was instructed to keep notes should anything out of the ordinary arise. I promised to return in the morning.

Presently, I was taking the night off, curled up in one of the twin armchairs reading a novel for a change; a romance, of all things, where the hero fights for good and struggles to be with the woman he loves. I was about two thirds through and was anxious to know the ending when an overpowering sensation of anxiety, fear, panic, and pure terror struck me. It froze me in my spot. Something was horribly wrong. My head popped up from the book, and I guardedly glanced around the room. There was nothing there. Setting the book down, I apprehensively walked across the sitting room and peered out the window. I could barely make out the few sheep that stood in the meadow on the far hill. The sun had set nearly an hour ago, and the darkness demanded that the lamps be lit, hindering my sight beyond the glow and reflection. Trying to shake off the feeling of dread, I sat back down to continue the story, glancing up every now and again with concern. About an hour later, just as the hero was about to come to the heroine's rescue, I was struck by an even stronger, more powerful sensation. This, however, had a duality, a combination of absolute anger and hate, fury beyond compare, mixed with excruciating pain and a pitiful plea. It was physical as well as emotional. My chest constricted, and I gasped, trying to breathe. Then, as suddenly as it began, the twofold impression was reduced to one of absolute agony and emotional turmoil. There was no doubt; it was obviously from Severus. What had happened? Rising to my feet, I tossed the book onto the chair, and headed to the bedroom. Torn as to what to do, I stopped and paced the narrow hallway between the bedroom and the kitchen. S_hould I go?_ I'd never received such powerful signals before. We were still linked, and I could Apparate directly to his vicinity. _Should I wait to be called?_ No, there was something horribly wrong. I had to go. Striding into the bedroom and hauling the wardrobe open, I determinedly pulled a thin, black jumper over my t-shirt and tied my hair back. Heading down the hall and into the kitchen, Pinky blocked my path at the back door.

"Mistress must stay," she ordered, her thin hand held in front of her to stop me.

"Something is happening, Pinky. Something bad. You have to get out of my way. I have to go," I explained, trying to move past the elf.

"No!" Her hand rose again, her elf power striking me in the chest, pushing me away from the door. I stumbled backward, confused. "Mistress is to stay. Pinky is to keep Mistress safe. She is not going to the castle. Headmaster's orders."

"Orders?" I angrily shot. "Since when do you take orders from the Headmaster? There's trouble. They need help. Pinky, GET OUT OF MY WAY!" I furiously tried to push past the elf.

"NO!" Pinky fought to keep me in place, her power pushing me back once more. "Pinky is sorry to go against Mistress. It hurts Pinky to disobey Mistress, but Mistress must stay safe. Headmaster says you would feel the pain and want to help. He says Pinky must not let Mistress go. Pinky is keeping Mistress here." The little elf was firm, and there was no moving her, but I could see the distress in her eyes at defying me.

I let out an angry roar that shook the candle chandelier above the kitchen table. Balling my fists in frustration, I ranted to the extent that Pinky had never seen or heard, an anger brewing from deep within at the inability to do anything. Large tears rolled down Pinky's cheeks as she held her ground. Turning my back on the elf, I moved to try the other exits, even the windows, and found that they were all blocked. I was being held here. There was nothing I could do but wait.

_Damn that old man!_

A couple of hours later, as I impatiently paced the worn carpet of the sitting room, Stark arrived, zooming through the open window, flustered and soaring through the air as if he didn't know where to land or what to do. When he finally did find a place to light, his wings fluttered and twitched with exhaustion. Pinky joined us when she heard the crashing as Stark frantically ran into things.

_I came as fast as I could, _the raven sputtered. I could feel his distress; his little heart beat madly. _It's horrible. Horrible. _He flapped his wings again. _The castle was attacked. Men in masks. Spellfire everywhere. The Headmaster is dead. The boy was supposed to do it but couldn't. The Dark One did it. Master did it. He was so angry._

I was unable to speak, unable to think clearly. It was all jumbled. Albus was dead? Is that what I had felt earlier? The attack? The confrontation between Severus and Albus? Had Severus carried out the orders that he had tried so hard to get out of? If so, if it was as Stark had said, he was now thrust into the depths of the Dark side that he had never ventured into before. He would have the Dark Lord's ear more than he had ever had. But, at what cost? The life of his mentor, his friend…his puppeteer. I shook my head trying to regain my mental faculties.

"Who witnessed this besides the boy?" I suddenly asked, my mind snapping into focus, hoping maybe that it wasn't true but knowing in my heart that it was.

_I followed the old man and a dark-haired boy from the village to a tall tower at the castle. They had been away on brooms. There was an ugly mark in the sky. I landed on a ledge and watched. The old man ordered the dark-haired boy away, but the blonde boy arrived before he reached the door, and the dark-haired boy disappeared somehow. The old man talked to the blonde boy. He was very weak, and he looked hurt, and the boy was putting his wand down, but then, three others in masks arrived, and then the Dark One arrived and pushed the blonde boy out of the way. The old man called the Dark One's name, and they were silent for a moment, then the Dark One raised his wand and killed the old man. It was horrible…horrible._ Stark began to flutter again. The faith and trust he had built in the Dark One was terribly shaken.

Pinky stood to the side shaking her head and howling into her hands. "Not Master. Not Master," she repeated through the sobs, her elf sensitivities hearing Stark's words.

I sank into the armchair, a heavy feeling weighing on my chest. I hadn't seen Albus since my return to Britain. He kept putting me off. We never had a chance to talk. I had a feeling that he was pursuing another clue, but he wouldn't confide in me, keeping his movements secret from everyone, except those who needed to know. It seemed that this time, he chose to take the Potter boy instead of me on this particular task. I knew that he planned to do it at some point, but why now? What had happened? I shook my head. _W__hy hadn't he confided in me?_

Bright sunshine glistened off the smooth surface of the lake. Hundreds had gathered to pay their last respects to the gifted patriarch of Hogwarts. I recognized a few. A sea of red hair stood out; the Weasleys were in attendance. I spied Alastor Moody sitting close to them, his magical eyes swivelling madly in its socket. Remus was there with a young witch whom I recognized. Her hair was different now, no longer a mousy brown but a vibrant pink. I couldn't see well from where I was positioned, but it looked like they were holding hands. Remus leaned close a couple of times, whispering what appeared to be gentle words of comfort to his teary companion. There were Ministry officials and reporters from various newspapers from around the Wizard world. Master Castwell was there with a few others from the Society of Potions Masters, and an elderly man and woman sat in the very front row, dabbing their eyes, a couple I recognized from my childhood – Grandmaman and Grandpa Tom. It had been so many years. My throat constricted at seeing them again.

Rows upon rows of chairs lined the cropped, green expanse, and those in attendance fell to a hush as the giant of a groundskeeper solemnly carried the cloaked body of my grandfather to the white marble table on a platform by the lake. Mermaids sang their tribute and watched from the water's edge. Even the Centaurs couldn't resist paying their respects and stood silently at the perimeter of the forest. When the speaker finally ended his homage, and the table burst into flames leaving a pure white tomb, their arrows flew through the air landing safely on the opposite side of the crowd, and they retreated into their domain.

I silently sat with my knees drawn to my chest, my arms wrapped around them, on the grassy knoll to the right of the service, away from the guests, and overlooking the lake: my hill, I had once called it. My modified Disillusionment Charm was fully engaged. Even in this moment of sorrow, even with so many others present, I couldn't risk being associated with Albus Dumbledore, my grandfather. It was too dangerous. So, I sat quietly watching the proceedings from a distance. It was obvious that he was a well-respected leader; much loved, and would be missed by many. But, I could also feel the questioning senses of some in the crowd, those who may have doubted his motives or methods. He had secrets that even they recognized.

It wasn't until late that night when I was tucked under the cozy confines of the down-filled comforter in the soft bed of the isolated Cumberland safe house that the events of the week fully sank in. Albus was dead. Severus was rising in Voldmort's camp, and I would probably not have contact with him for a very long time. Remus had found a mate. And, I was alone. Again.

The common definition of "destiny" is that the inner purpose of life is preordained. It is an inevitable series of events that predetermines someone's future. We all have roles to play, things to do; some we choose, some we don't. There are some things in life that we can control, and then, there are things that life leads us to do – our destiny. Years ago, I learned exactly what I was destined to do. Conceived on Samhain with the blessings of the Goddess and God, raised to be independently-minded, my unique set of powers were expertly honed, my life directed by the need to provide service for others, to fight and protect. Although I lived separately from those I served and played a role of my own choosing, my life was never truly my own, always having a duality, keeping my true purpose in life, my destiny, in the shadows.

Pinky silently approached as I sat lifelessly in the large, winged armchair in the sitting room staring into oblivion. We hadn't spoken much since the tower incident, and I could feel her pain at disobeying me, knowing what had transpired, and that she had prevented me from becoming involved in it. She had an old shoebox clutched in her hands and presented it with a deep bow, her bottom lip trembling.

"Headmaster asked Pinky to give this to Mistress when he is gone," Pinky choked as she released the box and backed away.

I peered at her intently through tired eyes, croaking a "thank you" with a disused voice. Taking the box and placing it on my lap, I raised the lid and looked inside. It was like opening someone's junk drawer, filled with odd devices, some old photographs, and a folded parchment fastened with Albus' signature seal. I broke the seal and examined the scratchy script.

_My dear Daniella,_

If you are receiving this, I have passed from this life to Summerland. Do not mourn my passing. I chose the path of my life many years ago, however, in doing so, regretfully, created paths for many others to follow. You once stated that you were not born to this world but bred for the purpose to fight, your existence planned, your destiny designed. You were right. We, I, needed someone with a unique, undetectable collection of powers based in ancient magick, someone who would have a deep connection with the deities and the Guardians. Your grandmother did, as did your mother, but you were the strongest of the line. It was a risk, but seemed, at the time, to be the only way to defeat the nemesis. Your parents were in agreement and understood what needed to be done, volunteering for the task to create such an exceptional individual. This does not diminish their love for you. They cherished you very much and regretted the times spent apart from you. However, you needed to be raised with a detachment from people, to learn to focus your skills without distraction. Hence, the reason that you were and are, more often than not, isolated. When you met Severus, I saw a bond growing that had a future use. I encouraged the relationship but again knew that it could be a distraction. I have meddled in things that I had no right to meddle in and for that I am truly sorry. You are brilliant in all that you put your hand to and deserve better than I allowed you to have.

_However, although I may be gone, the task remains. Harry Potter must find the remaining horcruxes. They must be destroyed, and he must face Voldemort. As you know, the diary and ring have already been taken care of. The others must be located. It is your task to do this and clear his path. Although he will be working with his closest friends, help him seek what he requires. Lead him to _his_ destiny, and if you can do this without being detected, your life will be yours, _your_ destiny fulfilled._

_The contents of this box are an assortment of things that may assist you. Use them well._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_PS. If you ever have the need to talk, you can find me hanging around in various places throughout the Wizard community._

My lips twitched upward at the last part and a slight chuckle emerged. He was so right. There were numerous of portraits of him in various institutes throughout the Wizard world. Still smiling faintly, I put the letter on the side table and peered into the cardboard box. There appeared to be nothing of value in there: an old lunar chart from the year before I was born, a stone pendulum (Granted, the stone was interesting. I'd have to find out what kind it was), some old photographs; one was of my parents, and I suppose, the baby was me. I recognized the outcrop of rock as one I used to play on in Crotone when I was a child. My parents were smiling and waving in the picture. There was another one of him and my grandmother. There was a scrap of parchment with what appeared to be a list of items – cup, locket, sword, snake, Grey Lady, and at the very bottom of the box, buried under what appeared to be nothing but trinkets, was a wad of soft, crimson cloth. Removing it and carefully unfolding the fabric, a pendant slipped into my hand. It was a silver bird with its wings wrapped around a half-ounce, glass vial, a black silk cord hooked through a small loop above the stopper. I examined the contents of the vial in the lamplight. It appeared to be a pearly, white substance, semi-viscous, like half-solidified gelatine. A torn slip of parchment was wrapped with it: _"For emergencies only",_ it read. Holding the pendant up again, the silver and glass sparkled. Draping the cord around my neck, the pendant nestled in my cleavage. I had an odd feeling that this needed to be kept close. Closing the box, I placed it on the side table and sat back to re-read the letter.


	53. Chapt 52 Through The Looking Glass

**Iub52 – Through The Looking Glass/I?**

The streets were quiet. At least half of the shops in Diagon Alley were closed and boarded up. People hurried about their business, heads down, eyes up, scurrying amidst the few shoppers who dared to venture out. They seemed to be afraid to stop and talk with each other for fear of being overheard. Suspicious individuals lurked on the street corners making everyone nervous, and a heaviness hung in the air.

Having been cut off from my contacts, I searched many places for information to help in my quest: St. Mungo's, Diagon Alley, even occasionally venturing into the shadowy depths of Knockturn Alley under a good Disillusionment Charm; the Vagueness Charm just wasn't safe enough there. I couldn't locate any of the Order members that I knew and was concerned about going directly to the Ministry as I was no longer associated with the research team and had heard of the new security procedures for admittance. Presently standing outside Flourish and Blotts, I picked up the most recent copy of the _Daily Prophet_ from a street vendor, flipped through the pages, scanning for news. It was a thin paper, not much of value being reported anymore. There were a few articles on Rita Skeeter's tell-all book about Albus. I snorted, _Maybe I should purchase a copy. It may shed some light on the old man and his mission in life. _There were one or two helpful hints on how to "protect yourself" from Inferi and Dementors. _Like keeping "happy" thoughts with all that was going on was possible. _There was a short list of the most recently deceased and missing, and a report on the increase of attacks on Muggle. I paused, _Hmm, I should check on Emily_. The one article that did catch my attention was hidden on the back of page four between an advertisement for _Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions _and a gossip column. It appeared that the Potter boy had vanished halfway through July, and no one knew where he was, or at least no one was saying.

Sighing as I tucked the newspaper into my shopping bag, I grumbled to myself that Albus had never given anyone full details of his activities, and now he expected me to help the boy…who had disappeared… thank you very much. I unconsciously rolled my eyes. _Destiny, _I scoffed as I strolled the narrow, cobble street, my light summer cloak rippling gently in the breeze as I slowly blended with the alley._ Lead him to his destiny without detection and get my life back_. Albus was always so cryptic. Why couldn't he ever just spell things out? I really needed to find a better way to discover what was going on.

It was late, and the crescent, waxing moon was high in the starry sky accentuating the power of incoming energy. I prayed to the Goddess Moon to help clear my sight and direct me to where I needed to be. Placing my hands flat on the battered, kitchen table, palms down, fingers spread, the black plate in front of me shone in the dull candlelight as I focused all of my attention on the images that began to form. The scrying dish had been my mother's, and it was something that she was very good at. It had been a way of communicating with my father when he was travelling, but was not a method of surveillance that I was comfortable with. To me, the idea of watching others without their knowledge simply out of curiosity was an invasion of privacy, but one, I had to confess, I had used this past year to keep a protective eye on Emily, Colin and the children. Now, it served a different purpose. I needed to know what was going on, and I had spent the better part of the past week trying to track people down.

Severus' link still existed, but he had put a strong ward around himself, and although I could feel what few emotions he permitted himself to have, I was unable to locate him or see what he was doing. However, a few days ago, I was certain that the dish reflected a vague image of him, but the figure quickly faded, as if he sensed the invasion.

The one time I checked on Remus, I wish I hadn't. Shaking my head at the memory, he really should have known better and definitely should have used a more effective shield. I couldn't tell where they were, but it looked very romantic with the glow of the multitude of candles. But, I really didn't need to see _that_ side of his relationship with Tonks. Although, I had to admit, it appeared that his technique _had_ improved. I chuckled roguishly at another budding memory. On a more serious side, he may be the only member that I could contact without putting anyone in danger. I'd have to try.

Heavy Protective Charms were in effect at the Weasley home. No surprise there. Nothing could penetrate. The benefit of being a Ministry official, I supposed. At least I was able to catch a glimpse of Arthur, on occasion, as he travelled to and from work. He was constantly on guard, and I could tell that he was on edge. Between the stresses at the Ministry and what his family had gone through this summer, I didn't have to wonder why. My opinion had been sought at St. Mungo's when Fenrir Greyback had assaulted his eldest son, Bill, during the attack at Hogwarts. The werewolf hadn't been in his transformed state at the time, and no one knew how or if the lycanthrope would manifest. I promised to do some research into the situation. I had met Bill once during the summer of my sabbatical. He was a nice man and was to be married this summer. Such a shame. I had also heard that one of Arthur's other boys had been seriously injured recently, as well, but to what extent, I didn't know. He hadn't been brought to the hospital.

Tapping into some of my former colleagues at the Ministry, there was a distinct sense of apprehension and trepidation. Tension was high, and many people, some in high-ranking positions, were acting oddly. There seemed to be a great deal of mistrust. Another reason for me to stay away if I could.

Trying to locate a few others from the Order, Alastor in particular, I found that all employed some sort of Shielding Charm that either blocked invasion or sensed if someone was trying to pry. I was repelled frequently. It was not easy, and progress was almost non-existent.

Tonight, however, my search was unusually rewarded with something interesting. In the glow of the black, curved plate, three, foggy faces slowly emerged, huddled together, appearing to speak secretly with each other. The image cleared slightly, and I recognized the trio from Albus' and Severus' descriptions: Harry Potter, with his best friends, Ron and Hermione. Hermione looked like she was giving instructions while the boys listened intently, Potter occasionally glancing over his shoulder to a closed door behind. But, as easily as the image faded in, it faded out. Somehow, I had been permitted to see that the trio was together and safe…for now. I just had to figure out what to do next.

Agitated from the evening's investigations and from the rain that pelted the small, stone house; I puttered the kitchen the next morning looking for something to gratify my grumbling stomach. Tearing a chunk from a loaf of cracked wheat bread, I cut a wedge of mozzarella cheese and began to nibble as I paced around the table. Finally plunking myself down and pulling the scrying dish in front of me again, I was careful not to drop crumbs onto the surface. Breathing deeply, trying to relax my mind, I drifted to my calm oasis, the only portion of life that seemed to be unaffected by the madness of this war: Emily's. Ever since I'd heard about the increased attacks on Muggles, it had become a habit to check on them fairly regularly. So far, I was relieved to find them safe. The glass fogged, and then became clear as Emily's living room came into focus. The twins could be seen in the background sitting at the kitchen table playing with some sort of building toy. One was kicking the other under the surface, much to the annoyance of his brother. Emily stood at the counter fixing what looked like a snack for the children, her back turned to the fight about to ensue. Adrianne was kneeling at the coffee table in front of the sofa in the living room colouring. She seemed fidgety and kept glancing around the room, eyeing her brother's devious display, and restlessly brushing her chestnut curls from her face. I was pleased that the gift that I had given Emily and Colin over a year ago had not been moved from the mantle. It presented an excellent view of the activities on the main floor. My attention suddenly diverted back to the boys as a full-blown battle broke out, and Emily had to haul them apart, banishing them to either end of the table and placing a makeshift divider of books between them as she scolded them harshly. I laughed as she turned her back to finish her task, and the boys peered around the edges of the divider, sticking their tongues out at each other. Returning my gaze to the foreground, I jumped at the set of hazel eyes staring back at me. I could see her lips move, but the glass was only for viewing. She was trying to communicate. Raising my finger to my lips to hush her, I was rewarded with a huge, toothless grin. She had lost her two front teeth. I laughed, and she silently laughed back, her hand covering her mouth to stifle the sound. A sudden movement behind her made her spin, and I ducked out of the edge of the frame just as Emily's face came into view, quizzically looking at the plate and running her fingers across the glass. She turned to speak with Adrianne, probably to tell her that she had been seeing things, a reflection perhaps, and then returned to the kitchen to check on the boys. Adrianne came into view for a second time. Her little face creased with disappointment …until she saw me again. A delighted grin filled her face as I held my fingers to my lips once more, then reached for the glass. Our fingers touched briefly, and I gave a small wave "good-bye". She returned the wave and backed away from the mantle, still watching as I broke the connection. At least, I knew that they were all right.

Seeing Adrianne again made me long for the stable connection of family life, and by the weekend, I couldn't take it any more. Using the scrying dish to make certain that they were home and not doing anything in particular, I Apparated to a secluded part of the playground down the street from their house. All of the houses in this area looked alike with only the minor personal, decorative touches making the difference. Climbing the plain cement steps to the front stoop, I touched Emily's dying rose bush and watched it come to life before glancing through the front window into the living room. Colin was sitting in his favourite chair reading the paper, and Emily was sitting on the sofa with Adrianne on the floor between her knees having her wild curls tamed. The boys were nowhere in sight. I rang the bell and smiled as Adrianne bolted out of her mother's grip and dashed to the front door, Emily close on her heels, the brush bouncing helplessly in Adrianne's thick hair.

"Auntie Dani!" she squealed with delight as she flung herself into my arms, squeezing tight. This six-year old wasn't as light as she used to be and nearly knocked me over.

"Daniella, this is a surprise. Is everything all right?" Emily ushered me into the foyer with a smile and shut the door.

I nodded briefly, still wrestling the little imp from around my neck. Setting the child back on her feet, I looked at my old friend sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion. You don't have plans, do you?"

Emily waved me off and looped her arm into mine, pulling me into the comfort of their home. Colin glanced up from the paper and set it down on this lap. "Look what the cat dragged in," he said with a smile. "You okay. You look a bit pale."

"I've been working hard on a new project," I replied wearily taking a place on the sofa, Emily on one end and Adrianne at my side, Colin leaning forward in his seat looking concerned. Being with those who obviously cared for me had an instant effect on my strained emotional state. My jaw began to quiver, and Adrianne wrapped her arm around my waist.

"It's okay, Auntie Dani. Don't cry."

Well, that did it. The tears began as I drew a deep breath for control and hugged the child tightly. Addressing my friends, I slowly began, "I just needed to be someplace normal for a change." They smiled comfortingly. "I don't know if you remember the old man that was at our graduation, my old Headmaster?" Emily and Colin both nodded. "He was killed recently in the war." My breathing became laboured.

"I'm so sorry," Emily said kindly, reaching for my hand.

"It was quick, but still…" I shook my head.

"He was old when we met him years ago. I know that's not much consolation, but I'm sure he led a good, long life." Colin tried to be supportive.

"Yes, he did," I agreed weakly knowing that even for a wizard, being over one hundred was a good age.

"Is Uncle Stavros okay?" Adrianne quipped to the raised eyebrows of her parents. "You said there's a war. Is he fighting, too?"

"He's alive," I reassured.

"Stavros?" Emily questioned as Adrianne slapped her hand across her mouth, eyes wide with realization that she had let something slip.

"My husband," I stated flatly. "Adrianne met him over a year ago when she spent the night at my place."

"Your husband?" Colin questioned in shock. "And, when did this happen, and why didn't you tell us?" He looked toward Emily as if to ask if she knew.

"It was too dangerous," was the only response I could give.

The afternoon rolled along, and I was able to confide some of what was going on without giving any information that could be detrimental to their safety. The boys returned home from a friend's, and I helped Emily prepare dinner. I stayed late, enjoying the feeling of family and the connection with good friends. Adrianne insisted, as always, that I tuck her into bed, and she showed me her new little "trick". Clenching her hand tightly and scrunching her face in concentration, a small, white orb formed and shone through her fingers. As she expertly released it, it floated to the nightlight on the far wall opposite the bed illuminating it. Smiling proudly but concentrating again, she, this time, reached her hand directly above her as she lay on her back under the frilly, pink covers. A fluffy, brown teddy bear whizzed across the room from the chair in the corner into the waiting hands of the child. Her face beamed, and I brushed her hair from her eyes smiling proudly at her, my heart filling with love. She was a special little girl, and I'd have to keep a closer watch on her. If the wrong people discovered her talents, she would be in grave danger. Kissing her forehead and tucking the covers warmly around her body, I praised her but reminded her of the importance of keeping these powers a secret. She nodded as she sleepily rolled onto her side, pulling her teddy securely under her left arm.

Back at St. Mungo's the following week, I ran tests with a new variation of the Magpie Potion. The results appeared successful in the test subjects, and the Healers were willing to expand the scope a bit further. We wanted to extend the study to, once again, include the Longbottoms. I knew it was a long shot, but they tugged at my heart whenever I saw them with their son. I knew that Dark magic was irreversible but had an idea that may decrease some of the damage.

Later that night, sitting in the dark, leather chair behind the large, oak desk in the study, the original and modified Magpie research spread across the surface, I studied list after list of ingredients, looking for the one that nagged at the edge of my subconscious. The theory was simple, and one that had Belby's name reeling over and over in my mind. In Belby's original lycanthrope research, he had chosen the wrong species of plant, one that didn't have the proper dose of a critical ingredient. Through further investigation, we, I, had chosen another species from the same family, and the potion had been successful. I had the same instinct here. Somewhere amongst the herbs and botanicals an adjustment could be made…but where? Which one?

Pinky served a light dinner while I worked, and the lamps were lit as the darkness engulfed the study. My hand cramped as idea after idea was scribbled out. Wiggling my fingers for relief, I kept writing, the analysis of the research consuming me. By the time the white and tangerine streaks of dawn began to stretch over the horizon, the list of possible variations had been narrowed to three. Feeling very satisfied with the night's work, I stumbled down the hall to the bedroom, bouncing off the doorframe, and sinking into the soft covers, quickly falling asleep, not noticing Pinky entering the room and covering me with the spare quilt.

Summer was passing rapidly, and the new theory was developing well. Two of the three plants that were needed for assessment were readily available from known growers here in England, but the third could only be located in Europe, and I couldn't take the risk of leaving the country at the moment. My forays into the scrying dish gave some insight to what people were doing, but the information was limited, and the sense of foreboding was growing. The Potter boy's image did not rise again, and those I needed to locate the most had heavy, impenetrable shields up, even Remus. It wasn't until the end of August when I discovered why. The Wizard world had received another blow to its already fragile existence. The odd behaviour that had been developing at the Ministry finally manifested. The British Ministry of Magic was now obviously under the influence of the Dark Lord; the Minister, having secluded himself in his office for numerous days, had finally been…eliminated. No one knew just how many Ministry officials were acting on their own accord and who was under the Imperious Curse, and there was no way that I was going to venture into that tremulous atmosphere to risk finding out.

Another snippet of information that I overheard in the hospital Tea Room one afternoon was that Severus had been promoted to Headmaster of Hogwarts in Albus' place. I understood that his life in Voldemort's service would bury him in his spells and charms, but what a cruel fate to replace the man who had forced your hand into such a tempestuous situation. No wonder his personal ward was so strong. Occlumency was his lifeline; something even I couldn't penetrate.

As the fall equinox approached, and the summer winds turned cool, while Pinky lit the first fire of the season and Stark perched on the top of the bookcase, head tucked under his wing, I sat with the scrying dish on my lap in the comfort of the sitting room, wrapped in one of Severus' old sweaters. Breathing deeply and inhaling the lingering scent of the man I loved, I relaxed and focused on the dark glow of the plate. For the longest time, there was nothing but fog, but as my eyes started to drift closed in the heat and comfort of the sweater and room, a deep, angry voice penetrated my thoughts, amplified by the dish.

"No, I will not allow it."


	54. Chapt 53 The Start Of Something New

**53 – The Start Of Something New**

The voice was strong and clear, as if the man was standing in the room beside me. My eyes shot open, and I jumped, throwing the dish from my lap, grabbing it before it could crash onto the floor. I froze in a half bent position as another wave assaulted my mind.

"There must be another way."

Quickly settling the dish back on my lap, Severus reflected clearly on the black glass; his face contorted with rage, black, greasy hair curtaining his features as his lips twisted in anger. I recognized the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, and could see Severus' lips move; yet no sound emerged. I was puzzled. The scrying dish was for viewing only. I knew that. How could I have heard his voice? He paced the Imperial rug on the floor in front of the large desk. His agitation was obvious. He seemed to be speaking to someone else in the room, then paused as if listening, his features turning stone cold as his back became poker straight, his arms crossed his thin chest, lips pressed tightly together.

"I cannot let this happen."

I gasped. I was hearing his thoughts! Our link was open and clear. But, how? Why? Why now?

The cool weather had definitely begun to settle in as I strode through Hogsmeade, making my way to the Three Broomsticks. I had finally found a way to send a note to Remus, and we had arranged a meeting. Opening the door to step into the cosy pub, I located my old friend in a far corner, looking withdrawn and unhappy, certainly not the image portrayed earlier in the summer. He fidgeted with the glass on the table but didn't drink. As I approached, he shifted in his seat and a tired smile appeared on his pale face. He rose and pulled out the chair beside him for me to sit.

"You don't look good," I stated flatly sliding onto the wooden seat. "Is everything alright?"

Remus shook his head, then scrubbed his face with his rough hands, placing them back on the table, palms down. "You didn't come here for this." His reply was downcast. "How've you been?"

I reached out and placed my hand over his, sending a comforting sensation in his direction. "I'm fine, and I'll always be here for you. You know that," I reassured feeling the tension ease slightly.

"I've made a mess of things," he began uncomfortably, staring at our linked hands. "I shouldn't have married Dora…Tonks. I've made her and her family miserable."

"How can that be?" I replied in shock, giving his hand a light squeeze before releasing it. "What's happened?"

"Her family's been ostracized. Bellatrix has been threatening them. Dora's having problems at work. _You_ know what I am." He exhaled, shaking his head, eyes boring through the tabletop.

"Yes, I do. You're a wonderful, loving man who deserves to be happy and deserves to be loved. Has Tonks complained to you?" I didn't think she would. She adored Remus.

He shook his head, no.

"Has her family?" Again, no.

"Then, who has the right to make you feel miserable and guilty? Remus, you're a good man. She loves you. Stick with it. Who cares what others think." I waved off imaginary demons.

He snorted lightly. "You're the second person to tell me that in a week."

"Really? Who else? Tonks?" I demanded gently.

"No. Harry," he said quietly.

I cast a quick _Muffliato _and leaned forward in my seat. "You've seen him? Is he all right? Where is he?"

"He's fine. He's at the old headquarters with Ron and Hermione. They didn't return to school. With Snape as Headmaster, it's no wonder. Harry's stubborn and on a mission. I volunteered to go with him, but he refused, blasting me for being selfish." Remus was examining his hands again. "He said a child has the right to know his father."

I blinked rapidly. Did he just say…? "What? Father? Remus…" I threw myself across the table and gave him a huge hug. "And, you waited until now to tell me? Mamma Mia! He's right! You have a responsibility. Oh, Remus. This is wonderful."

His lips twitched with an uneasy smile, and for the next half hour, we chatted amiably. Remus explaining his fear of fatherhood and his apprehension of what the child would be like born to a werewolf parent, then, switched to the Potter boy's resistance to assistance. As we spoke, I could sense the stress and worry lessen from his demeanour, like he needed to talk to someone on the outside who was not intimately involved with the Order. By the time he left, a smile played on his lips. I shook my head: a father. I could definitely see it.

Leaving the Three Broomsticks shortly after Remus, I turned right and headed down the street toward the edge of town. The perimeter of the forest was in the distance, and to the right, on the hill, the Shrieking Shack.

The late summer air was crisp and clear, and I could feel my face flush from the exertion as I hiked the steep incline. The path was well used and straight, guiding me through the trees to an expanse of grass that I never thought I'd set foot on again. Placing my hand on the iron gate, it opened at my touch. Squaring my shoulders and bracing myself for what was to come, I strode through and continued the walk. The sun was still reasonably high in the sky, and the trees blocked the chill breeze making the walk quite pleasant. I had almost reached my destination when a mountain of a man wearing a heavy, brown tunic, emerged from the thinning woods. I practically had to tip myself backwards to look him in the face, guessing where the tunic stopped and his bushy beard began. His beetle black eyes shone brightly through the mass of scruffy hair and somewhere in the beard a mouth broke into a wide, welcoming smile.

"Ya mus' be Mistress Dee Marco," the half-giant stated cheerily. "Righ' on time, too. Good. I'm Hagrid. Yer ta follow me," he instructed, turning to stride toward the castle looming in the distance. Thank goodness I still jogged. His gait was huge! "The Headmaster's gathered the teachers together. There's a meetin' goin' on 'bout you. Gotta warn ya. He's none to pleased 'bout havin' ya here."

"It wasn't really my choice," I puffed, keeping up with the hulk of a man. "The only other option was to return to Europe, and that would take too much time."

"We really got what yer lookin' fer?" he asked, not stopping as we began to climb the last section of the hill.

"Strangely enough, yes. It has shown up for the past fifty years on inventory lists that are filed with the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry keeps track of items grown in the school's greenhouses, and a junior researcher at St. Mungo's found the lists. It would seem that a Professor Flaurance imported this plant from North Africa many years ago. _Gift_ was written beside the entry."

"Perfessor Flaurance, eh? Back when Perfessor Dumbledore an' his wife were teachers here. I remember her. She was always lookin' for new things to grow. Interestin' one, she was. Her an' Perfessor Castlewood, that was Perfessor Dumbledore's wife, were friends an' they used to grow all kinds'a different plants. If I recall, Perfessor Castlewood could make a plant grow jus' by touchin' it. Rare magic that." Hagrid reached out his hand to help me over some loose rocks.

I smiled to myself. This was a trait that my grandmother and I shared. In the few times that we were able to spend together when I was a child, she taught me many things about ancient magic.

Arriving at the front entrance of the castle in record time, the half-giant pushed the heavy, oak doors open as if they were dust on the wind. I followed, smiling to myself as we crossed the Great Hall, passing the House hourglasses, noting that Slytherin's glass was almost full, while the others, especially Gryffindor's were all nearly empty. I chuckled to myself. Severus was keeping his character intact.

"They're meetin' in the conference room, over here," he pointed down a long hallway on the first floor. "Follow me."

We reached the conference room without incident, meeting only a few students on the way. Hagrid tipped his head to greet some but kept us moving at a lumbering pace, and as he pushed the simple, wooden door open, my heart leapt at hearing Severus' sharp voice.

"…not given a choice in the matter. She has access to the old Potions lab and her quarters are in the same vicinity. She is to stay out of our way and us out of hers."

"Surely, you could have found the woman more suitable accommodations. The dungeons, for heavens sake. She's a renowned researcher in both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. Certainly there's something more appropriate." A crisp, female voice fought in my defence.

The groundskeeper stepped out of my way and ushered me into the room. "It's quite alright." My sultry Italian accent had all heads lift as I slipped the cloak from my shoulders, placing it across my arm. I had worn black tailored trousers and a fitted, dark green blouse, Muggle, but appropriate for Scotland's chill. My pin-straight, fawn-coloured hair was pulled back in a low bun, loose tendrils framing my face, gold highlights shimmering in the candlelight. Some of those in attendance eyed my attire with disapproval. "I requested accommodations close to the lab. I tend to work long hours, and it would be more convenient, and as the Headmaster noted, it keeps me out of everyone's way." I stood tall to greet the staff and reached my hand toward Severus. "I want to thank you from the start. I know it's an inconvenience, and I appreciate you allowing my presence here."

Remaining in his seat, he gazed at my outstretched hand with disdain, not returning the gesture. "I'm running a school, not a research facility, and you're late," he sniped. "I understand that you have your own house elf. Do you require a gilded paddock for your trusty Hippogriff as well or a velvet-lined closet for your broom?" His voice dripped with derision.

"No, thank you, but I do have a lovely collection of fluffy, pink Pygmy Puffs." I batted my eyes playfully. "They do like to scurry about. Would that be a bother?" I responded lightly to the shocked and amused twitter of some of the professors.

"Please tell me that you're joking," Severus sneered.

I grinned easily in return. "Of course."

"Do you intend to stand during this meeting?" Severus' eyes narrowed as he leisurely leaned back in his imposing, throne-like seat, tipping his head to a definitely inferior chair to his right.

"I wasn't invited to sit." I raised my left eyebrow to meet his challenge.

He rolled his eyes with exasperation, pointed his wand at the vacant chair, which rapidly slid out from the table. "Sit," he ordered adjusting himself to a straighter position. "The purpose of this meeting is to acquaint the staff with your presence. This school, staff and students, have undergone…difficult times…of late, and I do not wish for further upheaval." He waved his hand dismissively toward me in introduction to the staff, "Mistress Daniella Di Marco. Pride and joy of the Italian Ministry of Magic. According to them, a national treasure. Youngest Potions Mistress ever to join the Society of Potions _Masters_, and I couldn't care less about your Muggle achievements." He eyed me contemptuously. "Hex, curse, or otherwise injure her and we'll have an international incident on our hands that I have no desire to deal with. As for you," he turned his attention to me to begin further introductions. "Argus Filch, our caretaker." He pointed to an unkempt man standing at the other end of the table holding a ratty looking cat. "Madam Pince, the librarian." He pointed to a pinch-faced woman with strict, black hair who sat in front of Mr. Filch. "Madam, Mistress Di Marco is to have unlimited access to all aspects of the library, including the Restricted Section." The librarian's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously at me. Severus moved on. "Madam Pomfrey, our Mediwitch. Should you have any spare time," he directed toward me, "you can repay our hospitality by replenishing some of our stores." I smiled genially at the mediwitch who restrained from showing too much emotion. She had once been our Secret Keeper and recognized me. Severus continued, pointing to each. "The Heads of House are – Professor McGonagall of Gryffindor." This was the voice that had expressed the disapproval of my quarters in the dungeons. "Professor Flitwick – Ravenclaw." I remembered the tiny man from my short time as a student here. "Professor Sprout – Hufflepuff. Professor Slughorn - Slytherin. They will inform their Houses of your arrival so they, too, can refrain from starting an international incident," he finished. "The others you will meet in due time." He waved his hand dismissively at the remaining teachers. "Professor Sprout is also the Herbology professor, and the person you will have most contact with. Do try not to disrupt the classes."

"I'll do my best," I replied seriously.

Severus stood, as did the others. "We have work to do. The students are presently in study hall or in their Common Rooms, so you should not encounter any on your way to your quarters. As said, they are in the dungeons. Follow the stairs down. I'm sure you'll get there in one piece. And, Mistress Di Marco, I repeat, _do_ stay out of our way." Severus' deep voice was cold and forceful. There was no doubting his authority, but as he moved to pass me on the left, I moved right. As he moved right, I moved left, each time purposefully, mischievously, blocking his path. "Mistress," he growled, glaring down at me.

"Opps, sorry, Sir." I pressed my lips together to stifle the giggle that was rising, my denim blue eyes glittering into his deep pools of darkness.

With an exasperated sigh, Severus pushed past me and flung the door open. Watching him leave, my shoulders started to shake. Professor Sprout was at my side, her hand comfortingly on my arm. "It's alright, dear. He frightens most people."

A snort and giggle sprung forth to the surprise of the staff. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. He's so…stiff." I shook my head, grinning.

"You mean to say, you did that on purpose?" Professor McGonagall questioned guardedly. "Behaviour like that is not wise."

"Not smart, not smart at all," a large, scruffy professor with a pig-like face grunted.

"I am sorry. It wasn't meant to be disrespectful. The Headmaster and I have been acquainted for a number of years. We're both in the Society. I'm well aware of his…umm …disposition."

"Yes, we've missed you at the last few Yule celebrations." Professor Slughorn trudged forward, lips twitching mischievously. He knew of the mistletoe incident years ago and that Severus would only dance one dance, and that was with me, but he held his tongue, saying nothing. I gazed at him solidly.

Professor Sprout smiled as she took hold of my arm and led me from the room. "Something tells me that your time here is going to be interesting."

The stout professor gave me a brief tour of the castle, chatting endlessly about its history and pointing out the direction of the individual Houses, the library, Hospital Wing, greenhouses, Great Hall, staff room, and Headmaster's office. She was cheery and very pleased to have me at the school, mentioning that she used some of my articles as references in her senior classes. I was flattered. Just before dinner, she led me back to the entrance of the Great Hall as students were beginning to emerge from various parts of the school, preparing for their meal. Thanking the professor, I headed toward the dungeons avoiding as many students as possible. I had not been invited to dine with the staff, and Severus had been very clear that I was to stay out of everyone's way. I had to respect his request. Walking the dank corridor deeper into the bowels of the castle, I sensed an empathic impression guiding me, leading me to where I should be. Standing before an ornately carved door, I considered what the password might be. The quarters were undeniably warded.

"Di Marco," I clearly stated but nothing happened.

"Daniella," I tried again. The door remained closed.

"Potions Mistress?" I guessed. No luck.

"Guest?" No.

I stood, thinking, opening myself to the sensation that had led me here. "Saxon," I whispered confidently, and the door creaked slowly open, inviting me in.

The chamber was a crisp, a stark contrast of neutral black and white. A ceiling to floor window about four feet wide on the opposite wall overlooked the darkening expanse of backwater of the castle, a beautiful view of the now-set sun glistening its last rays on the smooth surface of the lake. The black velvet curtains were drawn back with black tassels, and my reflection shone on the surface of the polished glass. The room was spotless. An inset fireplace was to the right, a comfortable fire crackling on the grate. A black upholstered sofa with matching wing chair was positioned in front of the fire, a plush black carpet was on the floor, and two occasional tables were on either side. To my left was a small kitchenette. No cooker, but a few cupboards, an island counter, and a fair-sized sink. Even the cupboards and countertop shone black against the white walls. Directly ahead, in front of the large window was a small, rectangular dining table with two chairs, a hutch against the left wall sported a few books. At first glance, the wooden furniture in the room appeared black as well, but upon closer inspection, they were a rich, polished mahogany. All in all, even with the harsh contrast, the room was sophisticated and inviting, not cold. A door on the far left wall was ajar, and I wandered further to investigate. Like the outer room, black and white dominated: white walls, hardwood floor, black rugs. The queen-sized, four-poster, wrought-iron canopy bed was accessorized with black velvet curtains and bedspread. A large, mahogany wardrobe on the right wall and the twin nightstands were the only other pieces of furniture. It appeared that Pinky had already been there as my clothing was neatly arranged on the hangers and shelves. Although simple, the room was beautiful, and the wrought iron sconces reflected against the pale walls giving the chamber a very warm appearance. There were no pictures or paintings on any of the walls, only candle fixtures to break the monotony of the white. Another door to the left of the bed led to a small bathroom. Everything in this room was white with chrome fixtures: a pedestal sink, toilet, and tub with shower. The shower curtain and towels were white as well; the only black being the lighting fixtures and a few ornamental bottles that were on a narrow ledge behind the toilet.

Wandering back to the main room, a light "pop" indicated Pinky's arrival. She was solemnly setting the table for a solitary dinner.

"Will Mistress be needin' anything else?" she quietly asked looking a bit disheartened.

"No," I replied. "But, you're welcome to stay with me if you like."

Her ears turned a slight shade of pink as she nodded her head slowly.

"I know this is an adjustment from being on our own to having so many others around," I pointed out understandingly.

She nodded again. "Pinky likes the quiet. But, Pinky will do as Mistress wishes. Pinky is a good elf."

"Yes, you are," I praised affectionately. "And, I'd be lost without you. You did a lovely job on the room."

Pinky's ears turned fuchsia. "Pinky did not decorate the room," she replied with a twitchy smile. "Master did."


	55. Chapt 54 Making Contact

**54 – Making Contact**

"That's her."

"Say something."

"Me? No. What would I say?"

"I don't know. Now's your chance. Do it."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Go."

A group of students lingered outside the storage greenhouse. It was late afternoon, classes were over, and the setting sun shone whitish-yellow against the darkening sky just above the horizon. Root samples from the Dalphinius Sousterra had been drying in a window box, absorbing those vanishing rays, for the past few days, and were now ready to be examined. I had been collecting various parts from the seven-foot tall, black and orange plant that looked more like a Halloween palm tree rather than an exceptional botanical from North Africa. Bulbs, spikes, and sap from an inner branch cutting had contributed to several tests running simultaneously in the old, familiar Potions lab. Spying the group loitering near the entrance, I sensed excitement and apprehension as a red-haired girl and blonde girl seemed to prod the tall, dark-haired boy into action. I smiled recognizing the boy instantly. Opening the greenhouse door with the roots folded protectively in a warm cloth, I started past the group to head back to the castle.

"Go," the redhead whispered harshly as she pushed the boy forward.

"Umm, umm," he sputtered, nervously looking back over his shoulder at his friends.

I smiled warmly at him. "Good afternoon, Neville. It's good to see you."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You know who I am?"

"Of course. I've seen you at the hospital, and Professor Sprout speaks very highly of you," I replied acknowledging the girls as well.

"Really?" He spun to grin broadly at his classmates, then returned to me. "I, um, wanted to thank you for all that you've done for my parents. Healer Puddiwell says that you're going to try something new. Is that true? Is that why you're here?"

"Healer Puddiwell shouldn't have said anything," I warned. "All I can say is, I have an idea, and I want to see if it will work. With research, you can try something a hundred different times in a hundred different ways, and maybe, if you're lucky, one may work."

"But, it's good that you're trying," he replied hopefully.

I tipped my head forward in a half nod, then began matter-of-factly, "You're in seventh-year, right? You've studied Dark Magic? And, you already know that Dark Magic is irreversible." Neville's face began to drop. "All I can do is repair any repairable damage. _Maybe_ I can relieve some of the pressure on the brain, but I cannot _cure_ them."

"They showed improvement the last time you worked with them," he voiced encouragement.

"Yes. I was pleased to see it, and observing that change is helping with this study. I make no guarantees, Neville. All I can say is, I'm working on it."

He stood proudly and smiled. "I understand. I just wanted you to know that I was grateful. I think you're fabulous. I've read everything you've written. Professor Sprout had us do a comparative study on the Red and Black Cohosh articles you wrote a couple of years ago. It was fascinating."

"Indeed. Fascinating," a mocking voice hissed behind us. "If this little fanfest is over, you and your friends may return to the castle," Severus dismissed the students. "Mistress, a word…" He spun sharply on his heel and followed the path back to the side entrance expecting me to follow. I trailed closely hoping for a moment alone, but he was as difficult to keep up with as Hagrid: his long legs striding purposefully, his robe billowing behind, students parting like the Red Sea before him. I was about four paces behind, and he didn't slow or stop once. When we approached the entrance to the Headmaster's office, he silently gave the password. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he pushed the inner door open and paced to his desk. The door automatically closed and locked behind me, and I stood staring at his back, waiting.

"Do you have any idea how much danger you are in by being here? Do you realize what kind of position you have put me in? I fought against your presence, but I was overruled." He shook his head and took a deep breath, slowly turning to look at me. "I also asked you to stay away from the students. Could you not follow that simple instruction?" he demeaned, eyes narrowing, lip twisting repulsively.

I raised my left eyebrow at him, keeping my face impassive. I had been in the school for over a week and not once, since the initial meeting, had he acknowledged my presence. Not once had he tried to make contact. And, if Pinky hadn't told me of his efforts in decorating the room, I would never have known. Our eyes met and neither was backing down. I could feel the old Headmasters in the portraits turning their attention to the impending confrontation.

"I will not ignore anyone who approaches me, nor will I be rude or inconsiderate without rightful cause. It may be your way, but it's not mine. It's not my nature."

"Make it your nature," Severus growled. "It may keep you alive. You are no longer secluded in your protected, little world. You're in mine now."

"I'm well aware of that, and you have my sympathy, but I will not become you," I retaliated firmly.

His arms crossed his lean chest as obsidian eyes bore into my blue. His jaw tightened as his thin lips pressed together. "I do what I must," his harsh voice was barely above a whisper.

Instantly, I regretted my words. He worked so hard at putting up this front, of trying to keep others alive, and was rewarded with mistrust and a cruel reputation. Although, I had to admit, from what I'd seen and heard in the short time that I'd been here, it was well earned.

"I agree. I've led a solitary life, but not as protected as you think, and certainly not one of my choosing. Granted, I haven't been exposed to the same risks as you, but I've had my share. However, my life is not my own nor will it be until the Potter boy does as he should. It's my job to help lead him, to protect him, but I can't do it alone. The last I heard, he was at the old Headquarters, but I have no way of finding more out."

Severus leaned his backside against the front edge of the desk, his features softening in thought. "Yaxley and I went to Headquarters during the funeral. I wanted no part of the place, but the Dark Lord wanted evidence of what the Order was up to. Yaxley tore the place apart but found nothing. He had a good laugh, though. There were anti-Snape wards throughout the house. Moody's work, no doubt," he scoffed.

I took a tentative step closer, thinking of what we had been through, and of the man who had directed our lives. "Did Albus leave you further instructions?"

Severus nodded slightly, his tough demeanour deflating. "Phineas Nigellus Black," he tipped his head toward an empty picture frame, "should be there. He has another portrait hanging in the Black household. He has been spending a great deal of time there, listening to the trio, letting me know what they're up to. They're planning to infiltrate the Ministry soon to relieve Dolores Umbridge of a locket. They seem quite anxious to get it. Why is this locket significant?"

My eyebrows creased as I scanned the various portraits in the room, trying to locate Albus. Had he not told Severus? Spying the old man on the wall close to the desk, I approached, clearing my throat. He was fiddling with his long beard, pretending not to listen to the conversation at hand.

"Albus? He doesn't know?" I asked incredulously.

"No one else knew," Albus stated, leisurely looking up from his fingers. "Only you, me and Harry, and now probably Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Severus didn't need to know. He had enough to deal with."

"What didn't I need to know?" Severus was at my side glaring at the image of the man who had masterfully manipulated him for so long. Albus was quiet. "What didn't I need to know?" Severus growled at the portrait, his fists balled in anger.

Albus wearily gazed at me, nodded almost imperceptibly, and resettled himself in his seat, pretending to doze off. I placed my hand on Severus' arm and led him away from the portrait.

"Vold…" I began as Severus quickly held his hand up to stop me.

"Never utter his name. It is forbidden by punishable law. There are those with powers to instantly locate those who dare to speak it."

I acknowledged his warning and began again. "Riddle created horcruxes using various personal and historically significant items. Albus and I had been tracking them down for some time, but we didn't locate them all. After the funeral, I received a box, and in that box was a list of items that he presumed Riddle used."

"List? Items? It's dangerous enough to split your soul into two. How many do you think he's made?"

"Six, the seventh piece being himself. I believe that's the reason his appearance is less than human. The reduction of his soul has had a biological effect. Two of the horcruxes have already been destroyed. The locket is a Slytherin heirloom; lawfully Riddle's, and we're certain it's another horcrux. Other than that, the list is educated guesswork."

Severus sank his backside back onto the top of the desk, a look of disbelief on his face.

"I need help locating the boy. Albus said that the only way to fulfill my destiny and have my life back is to lead the boy to his final task."

Severus' eyes narrowed, and he bolted from the desk, eyes blazing as he strode to Albus' portrait, banging the wall on the side. "Even in death you dangle us like puppets!" he snarled.

Albus sighed wearily, rose from his seat, and silently walked out of the frame, not looking back.

Severus spun on the spot and roared at the ceiling.

"Frustrating, isn't he?" I sympathized. "I've been in the dark for months, not being able to contact anyone. Please, Severus, I need help."

Severus lowered his head to my level, his shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated, but only for a moment. In a few long paces, he was across the room, blasting the fireplace into action and nearly throwing himself into the closest chintz wing chair. I joined him, gingerly lowering into the mate on the opposite side.

"Of course, I'll help," he muttered, staring into the yellow flames. "One of the benefits of being Headmaster is that all of the portraits have a sworn loyalty to you…whether they like you or not. What happens in this room stays in this room. However, if anyone should suspect our involvement…" He let the thought drift, his wand hand unconsciously clenching and unclenching.

"Fear not, caro. I'm tougher than I look."

Severus was right. The trio had planned a daring infiltration of the Ministry. Much against my better judgement, I convinced St. Mungo's that I needed to contact members of the original research team to compare notes. They arranged a pass, and I was in strategic position on the day the trio arrived. The coordination and execution of their plan was impressive, and they handled obstacles well, with a little covert help. They almost didn't make it out, however, when in a daring show of either bravery or stupidity, I couldn't tell which, the Potter boy challenged the system and escorted nearly twenty witches and wizards accused of Muggle ancestry toward the exit. I shook my head at his gall, but smiled as he took the praise and thanks in stride. Miss Granger managed to procure the locket, but just as they were about to Disapparate, they were halted and a battle commenced. Under a modified Disillusionment Charm, I slowed as many as I could, but as Miss Granger Disapparated, a man grabbed hold of her and the two disappeared.

"Then, what happened?" Severus asked quietly from behind his desk.

"I Apparated to the park across from Number Twelve. There were several people waiting, and as Miss Granger was about to appear with the man in tow, whatever protective charms were on the building vanished. Those in the park attacked. I lost the trio in the melee. They never did completely materialize."

Severus drew a deep breath as his hands clasped across his abdomen. "Miss Granger is the brains of the three. I have no doubt that she had a contingency plan, and they have escaped to parts unknown. They will be difficult to track."

I sank into the chair opposite the desk, fingers steepled at my lips, thinking. My eyes scanned the portraits that were becoming accustomed to my presence in the Headmaster's office, and landed on one that was vacant. I tipped my head to the side. "Black," I muttered. Severus' head lifted in perplexity. "Headmaster Black," I reiterated. "He's not in his portrait."

Severus looked over to the line of Headmasters and Headmistresses, and indeed, Phineas Nigellus Black was absent from the queue. "I wonder." Severus' eyes narrowed in thought. "He's been gone for a while."

"Do you think he's still at the house?" I asked.

"I would have thought he'd return once the skirmish was over." Severus seemed puzzled.

"Maybe it's not over," I ventured.

"Or maybe, Miss Granger got creative," Severus added.

It was very late when a light tap sounded at the laboratory door. Casting a Seeing Charm, I viewed Severus standing on the other side, furtively glancing around. I pulled the door open, and he quickly stepped in. Giving the room a fleeting look, he began to relay the new information. Headmaster Black had finally returned and recounted, to the eagerly attentive former Headmasters and Mistresses, his ordeal with accusations of kidnapping and appalling behaviour directed toward him. He had been unceremoniously stuffed into "that girl's" handbag and had been cast with the _Obscuro_ charm whenever he was removed from it. He had remained in the bag, listening to their conversations. The Weasley boy had been badly splinched in the escape from the Ministry, but was on the mend, and they were presently hiding in a forest where the Quidditch World Cup had been held.

"You said that you needed to lead Potter to his task in order to be free," Severus sombrely stated. "I will do whatever I can to help."

I smiled lovingly at the harsh man. "Do you have a map of England in your office?"

Severus' brow creased, but he nodded.

Stealthily exiting the lab, Severus strode back to the main hallway and up the long flight of stairs, while I headed to my chambers. I had an idea, and Albus' box of odds and ends may be of assistance. Digging the box out from the bottom of the wardrobe, I tucked it under my arm and headed to the Administration Tower. The portraits muttered curiously amongst themselves as I entered after knocking briefly. I wondered if Albus had told them anything about me, or about Severus and me. As they watched, Severus unrolled an ancient looking chart onto the large desktop. Studying it, we looked for areas containing forests and rivers, as that was how Phineas had described it. The site for the World Cup had covered several square miles, and there were several rivers, large and small, running through it. An odd sensation drew me to the box as we examined the location. I lifted the lid and dug through the trinkets, pulling out the stone pendant. The polished, black, conical tourmaline felt warm in my hand, and I instantly sensed a power generate from it. Clasping it between my palms, I closed my eyes and focused, absorbing that power. Holding it in my receptive hand, I extended my projective hand forward and, turning to the right, I cast a small circle.

"A circle cast within this sphere,

Will keep my mind and focus clear.

Feel the power rise inside,

I call the earth and celestial tide.

Goddess, God and Guardians, please lead the way,

My faith in you will never stray."

The portraits were fully attentive; leaning forward in their frames, respectively quiet as the white aura formed around the map and me, rising to encompass us in a glowing orb. Holding the pendant by its long silver chain, it began to rock back and forth over the map.

"Dearest Goddess, I need your guidance to serve and protect the Chosen One. I need to find Harry Potter." The pendant swung, and then circled over a densely wooded section, on the eastern side of the forest, where a line of trees met the edge of a narrow river. Smiling satisfactorily, I thanked the deities and the guardians, and disengaged the circle. Turning to my husband, I announced, "I'll leave immediately, just to see if they're alright."

He shook his head while the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "You never cease to amaze me."


	56. Chapt 55 He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

**Iub55 – He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not/I/u/b**

Over the following weeks, Phineas Nigellus was very cooperative, visiting the trio on a regular basis and reporting back to Severus. Severus allowed certain bits of information to "leak", giving them a sense of connection, knowing what was happening inside the castle. It also gave Phineas an opportunity to listen for what their plans might be. However, according to the former Slytherin Headmaster, they were completely lost, and tension within their camp was rising. Phineas also failed in subtlety, surprising considering his background, and occasionally asked direct questions, resulting in his being rudely shoved back into the Granger girl's magical handbag. Each time this occurred, he vowed never to return …which, of course, he never upheld.

The pendant was used regularly and acted as an excellent pendulum. The trio moved location almost daily, and either Severus, me, or both of us, would venture into the area of their most recent hideout to watch from a distance. They had cast some excellent charms, and I often had to rely on the elements for guidance. However, the rustle of the leaves, or the movement of a branch would draw their attention to the forest, and they would stand and listen, sometimes packing up and moving immediately if they felt threatened. Our observations confirmed Phineas' regarding the tension. It seemed that no one knew what to do or what direction to look in. Even the brilliant Miss Granger seemed lost. Severus and I had to determine a plan of action, to lead them on the right track, but for now, they needed to settle the internal problems.

It was on my latest excursion that I noted Mr. Weasley absent from the group. The heaviness that hung over the remaining pair was overwhelming. They seemed frozen in their spot, neither talking much, and very sensitive to the sounds and sensations around them. I guessed that they were expecting the other boy to return.

"Are you off to Callanish tonight?" Severus silkily whispered as he snuck up behind me in the empty corridor leading to the laboratory. "It's a waxing moon. Rising power."

"I'm not going until later. I have a standing date with Emily and the children. We spend every Halloween together," I quietly replied turning to face the imposing Headmaster.

"I never understood how parents could allow their children to run from house to house begging for candy. It's a shameful display," he snorted with disgust.

"I never understood the custom either, but the children have a wonderful time. It's fun," I responded. "Why do you ask?"

"It has been brought to my attention that in the time that you have been here, you have never been invited to dine with the staff. As said at our first meeting, you were supposed to remain "out of the way". However, as tonight is the Halloween Feast, it was," he paused and pursed his lips in annoyance, "strongly suggested that I invite you to attend."

"Are you inviting me to dinner?" I cocked my head to one side, grinning playfully.

His deep eyes bore into mine, and I could feel the smoulder of words unspoken. "McGonagall and Sprout can be meddlesome old hags. I guess I'll tell them that you have other plans." His smooth voice was almost a purr.

"No, no," I dismissed with a casual wave. "If dinner is early enough, I can fit it all in. Emily is leaving with the children around six-thirty. Colin has to work. I could Disapparate from just beyond the gate." I stepped closer to the intimidating man until I could feel his personal aura pulse. There was maybe two inches between us as I tipped my head invitingly, letting the light, soothing fragrance of hamammelis infiltrate his sensitive nostrils.

"You are determined to destroy my resolve, aren't you?" he uttered softly lowering his head within an inch of my hair.

"No," I breathed, lifting my chin, allowing my forehead to gently graze the edge of his unshaven jaw. "Never destroy it, just weaken it a little." A sultry smile played on my lips.

"Ahh, there you are." The rotund Potions Master rounded the corner, his glittering green waistcoat stretched tightly over his ever-expanding belly. The gold buttons looked ready to pop. His walrus-like moustache twitched as he eyed Severus cautiously. "Has he invited you to dinner, yet, my dear? It's a feast. You must attend. We insist."

With Slughorn's first utterance, Severus and I abruptly broke apart, taking a pace away from each other, and feeling a sudden loss. Slughorn didn't seem to notice.

"She'll be there," Severus seethed as if completing a most unpleasant task. "Five o'clock. Be prompt. We'll not wait for you," he ordered over his shoulder as he skulked down the hall.

"He never did have a pleasant disposition, even as a student, but he was a brilliant Potions Master," Professor Slughorn observed. "Let his skills go to waste, though. Never could understand why he turned to teaching. Hates children. You, on the other hand, my dear, you have an interesting history. I wish you'd been one of my pupils. I would have been delighted to have you in my class."

I let the pompous old fool twitter as we ambled down the corridor toward my chambers. If only he knew who he was speaking to. I I_had/I_ been in his class. It was I_he/I_ who had paired Severus and me together so many years ago. It was I_he/I_ who had stolen our work for personal gain. Since then, we had met occasionally at Society functions, but I never did like or trust the man. He grated me. When we reached my door, he stood expecting to be invited in. I didn't grant the privilege. Bowing my head in dismissal, I told him that I'd be at dinner at five.

The black scrying dish lay on the small rectangular table by the large window, my hands relaxed on either side as I let my mind clear. Emily's living room came into focus. I could see my friend preparing dinner in the kitchen as Adrianne played with her dolls on the coffee table. I directed an empathic suggestion to look up, and she finally obliged, looking quickly into the kitchen and then moving toward the mantle. She smiled broadly and motioned if I was coming tonight. I nodded, and she clapped her hands with excitement. I held up a small clock and moved the hands to the six-thirty position. Her smile faded, and she shrugged her shoulders. A moment later, I could see her calling to her mother for information. Her smile grew again, and she nodded. I gave her a "thumbs up" sign, waved, and faded from the frame. With that confirmed, I sauntered into the washroom to run a steaming bath and prepare for my first public appearance at the High Table.

Students were busy getting themselves to their House tables, mouths watering in anticipation of the bounty about to be served. Bright orange and black candles were magically suspended giving a warm glow to the tables below, while bats fluttered in the illusion of the clear, night sky that reflected in the ceiling. I stood against the outer wall by the main entrance, gazing up at the High Table, not wanting to pass through so many students, but not seeing another way in. Pinky had laid out a dark rose robe that accentuated my colouring and my bust line, but I returned it to the wardrobe, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. I chose a simple navy robe, fitted, with bell sleeves, a reasonably high collar, and bronze trim. It was flattering but not ostentatious. Pinky had been disappointed, saying that Master would have appreciated "her" robe, and I had to agree, but now was not the time to impress him. Feeling very awkward, I was about to turn away and head back to the dungeons when a familiar voice called from my left.

"Yer no' leavin', are ya?" the hulking grounds keeper called. "The feast is 'bout ta start."

I looked around uncomfortably. "There are so many people, and I couldn't find a less conspicuous place to enter. I really didn't want to head straight through all of the students." The blush was rising in my cheeks, and the half giant sympathized.

"Follow me," he motioned kindly as he turned, passing under the massive hourglasses, and heading down an unseen corridor to the right of a suit of armour.

I did as I was instructed and in short time found myself at an unassuming, wooden door almost hidden by a large painting of Ballus the Barbarian of Blute – so Hagrid informed me. He pushed the door open and led me in, having to duck almost in half and twist sideways in order to pass.

"Hagrid, what on earth are you doing coming in that way?" Professor McGonagall's sharp voice asked.

"Mistress Dee Marco was too shy ta come in the fron'," he answered as he ushered me in.

"Mistress! Oh, I'm so glad you could come. I didn't think Severus would actually invite you. He was so set on… well, you know what I mean," chirped the plump Herbology professor, motioning to the empty seat at her right.

"He asked this afternoon," I replied quietly as I passed a couple of other professors and slid onto the chair between Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch.

"Good of you to come." Madam Hooch raised her goblet to me. "You should have come even if the dungeon bat didn't invite you. Would stir things up a bit."

"I'm not one to "stir things up", " I responded meekly. "At least not on such a grand scale," I smirked.

Professor Sprout snorted into her water glass and chuckled. "I told you she was a pip," she directed toward the flying instructor.

Severus sullenly arrived with the Muggle Studies and Defence Against the Dark Arts professors from an antechamber behind the High Table. I had seen both around the school, and the DADA professor had taken to following me – either with his eyes or physically. On more than one occasion, I found him lurking at the end of the corridor that led to the lab or outside the library when I was researching late at night. I informed Severus, and he said that he would "take care of it". The actual following seemed to stop, but there were times when I had a feeling of being watched and a moment later Amycus Carrow would appear. I didn't like it.

As Severus sat, large platters arrived with enough food to feed an entire third world nation. The students dove in like they had never been fed before, and the chatter rose to nearly deafening heights. Conversations milled around me, and I answered as many questions as I dared, without disclosing certain critical information. Professor Slughorn began to regale stories from Society functions that he had attended with both Severus and me, and I feared that he would divulge too much. I think Severus felt the same, because before too long, Slughorn's train of thought drifted, and after taking another hefty swig from his wine goblet, he began to babble almost incoherently. Severus leaned smugly away inconspicuously tucking his wand back into the folds of his robe while Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes at her presumably inebriated colleague.

"A few of us are heading to the Three Broomsticks after dinner. Would you care to join us?" she invited generously.

I dabbed my mouth with the linen napkin, finishing the last bite of treacle tart, and shook my head in reply. "Thank you for the invitation, but I have plans tonight."

"Not going back to work, are you? Goodness, you do live up to your reputation," Professor Sprout scolded gently.

"No," I smiled brightly, my blue eyes twinkling, "I have a date."

"Really? Wonderful. Bring him along," Madam Hooch cheered loudly.

"She's been held up here for over a month. I hardly think she'd want to socialize with us given the option." Professor Sprout winked at me. "Have a good time, dear. I'll expect full details in the morning...assuming you come back tonight," she giggled.

I smirked, not wanting to tip my hand and reveal my true destination, but as my eyes scanned the others at the table, I noticed Alecto Carrow listening attentively, then pass the information on to her brother. Severus also caught the byplay.

His eyes caught mine for a brief moment. I_Don't worry/I, _he sent.

My lips twisted upward, and I gave an almost imperceptible nod in thanks. I_I'm leaving soon. See you later./I_

He acknowledged with a half nod as he turned his head toward the Gryffindor table.

The fog rolled in, virtually obscuring the path from the castle to the gate. I slipped once on a damp patch of fallen leaves that littered the ground, but caught myself, wrenching my back slightly and causing me to limp for a few paces. Opening the gate and stepping into the non-magical realm, I Disapparated to the deserted park a few blocks from Emily's. Children were already running from house to house in uncontrolled excitement, their parents clustered in groups on the sidewalks. I pulled my heavy, black cloak tightly around my body, covering the traditional witches' robe that I wore, and hurried down the street, quickly reaching my destination, and climbing the cement stairs to my friend's. I was met with three grinning faces pressed against the large, front window. The twin strawberry heads stood waving while the third chestnut head dashed from the glass to open the front door.

"Look Auntie Dani," Adrianne beamed as she spun, showing off her costume. "Look, it's a cloak like yours. Mommy followed what I said, and look, I even have a wand." She flourished a cut piece of doweling in the air, making a grand sweeping motion.

I smiled lovingly at the child as I entered.

"She was very insistent on certain aspects of the costume." Emily smirked as she stepped into the foyer pulling on her coat. "You look lovely," she observed. "A bit overdressed for Trick or Treating, though, don't you think?"

"I think she looks pretty," one of the twins offered shyly as he stepped up behind his mother.

I smiled sweetly and thanked the boy. "I like your costume," I praised as his brother joined him. "You both look incredible." One was a zombie and could have passed for an Inferi it was so well done. The other was a "hard rock" rock star, with spiky hair, studs and fake piercings. I chuckled lightly. Emily would have her hands full with that one. "Shall we go?" I directed to the family, and as the front door opened, the boys dashed out and were at the neighbour's house before Emily could get the key into the lock. Adrianne grabbed hold of my hand, but soon followed her brothers in the excitement.

"You do look lovely tonight," Emily restated as we trailed the children to each house. "Plans later? With Stavros perhaps?" She wagged her eyebrows comically.

I smiled. "I wish, but alas, no. There was a dinner tonight where I'm working. I left before changing." I opened the cloak to show my friend the robe. "Modern but still traditional." I grinned as Emily's eyes widened.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, reaching out to finger the silky bell sleeves. "But, you left a fancy dinner to go Trick or Treating with us? Are you mad? Or, is there something wrong?"

"There's always something wrong. We're at war," I snorted. "But, this is our time together. I've made it a bit of a tradition."

"You know, I'm still getting used to the idea of what you are, but I figure, you're still the same workaholic person I knew in school. We all have our secrets. Yours just happened to be…well, bigger than most," she grinned. "I've been doing some reading, too. Isn't tonight a special night? A holiday?"

I was impressed. Emily seemed to be embracing the fact that her daughter and I were witches and was willing to learn more about it.

"Halloween is a major sabbat, an important spiritual celebration. Your world sees it as a time to dress up and have fun. Some see it as the Devil's birthday, but only Christianity has a Devil. For me, it's Samhain, the celebration of our ancestors, honouring those who have gone before, what they've taught us, and the imprint they left behind. It's often called the Festival of the Dead. I know," I chuckled watching Emily twist her face in disgust. "But, it's not the celebration of something gruesome. We learn from history. If it weren't for our ancestors, we wouldn't have many of the things we have today. It's also the final harvest of the year. Look at what you use to celebrate Halloween – apples, pumpkins, squash; the last things of the year to be picked. After this, farming is finished."

"I never thought of it like that. It makes so much sense. It's a shame that hardly anyone thinks of it that way." Emily was in awe.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I've lived between the two worlds my whole life. Very little of human nature surprises me anymore."

For the next hour and a half, we meandered the street, chatting quietly and following the children, listening to them prattle about the goodies that they were receiving. The chilly fog that I left in Scotland had begun to roll into the tranquil suburb as we headed back home. Aiming directly for the kitchen, the goody bags were dumped onto the table, and the candy carefully inspected before being placed back into the bags to hang on a hook behind the kitchen door. Emily confided that it was safer than leaving the children to their own devices with so much temptation and so many "crazies" in the world. She, then, put the kettle on to make hot chocolate for the children and tea for us. Tomorrow was Saturday, and the children were permitted to stay up a bit later to unwind from the evening. The boys gave me a hug before disappearing to another room to watch television, while Adrianne leaned against my arm, yawning. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her onto my lap.

"Oh, Daniella, she's getting too big for that." Emily tried to move the child from my knee.

"She'll be too big when she starts to crush my legs," I responded pleasantly brushing Emily away and cuddling Adrianne closer, the two of us smiling at each other.

Emily returned the smile recognizing the special bond between her daughter and close friend, and as my tea turned cold in the cup and Adrianne's head flopped against my shoulder, her weight increased, and it was time to put her to bed. Quickly checking the protective charms on the house, I cast a wandless I_Mobilicorpus/I_ on the child and gently floated her down the hall and up the stairs.

Emily followed close behind and whispered, "Can you teach me that?" I smiled over my shoulder.

Tucking the child into bed, she rolled over and sleepily murmured, "That was cool."

I stroked her hair back and kissed her forehead, wishing her a "good night" as Emily flipped the small nightlight on across the room. Backing up and leaving the mother and child to their private "good night", I headed back down the stairs and into the living room.

"She loves you so much," Emily declared as she joined me, flopping onto the opposite end of the sofa.

"The feeling is mutual," I replied. "You're so lucky to have this." I waved my hand around the room indicating to her home.

"Yours will come, in time," she stated encouragingly. "Doesn't Stavros want a family?"

"It's not something we discuss anymore. We lost a son once and with the war…" I let the thought drift. "Can we change the subject?"

Emily nodded, and I could sense an uncomfortable feeling emanate from her. She felt sorry for me, kind of sad. I could relate. That was exactly how I felt.

The wind whipped around the massive stone monoliths on the Isle of Lewis. Callanish was deserted, and the sliver of waxing moon barely gave any light. Choosing a site in the centre of the large, stone pillars, and casting the circle, I lit the candles and opened myself to the spirits that touched the earth tonight. The veil was thin, and my power was scattered, reaching to those who wished to speak. My parents arrived first, proud and confident, reaffirming their faith in my abilities and their love for me. Their image was faint as their memory was fading from my mind. They had died so long ago, and so much had happened since. I had only one tattered picture of them that was found in the bottom of Albus' cardboard box, but it was their presence that I remembered more than their appearances. Albus arrived next, kindly and humble, persuading me to push on, to assist Harry where I could. My blood pounded through my veins as Albus spoke, my anger rising against my mentor. Even as encouraging as he was, I couldn't help but feel used and manipulated. Yes, it was for "the good", but I never had a choice in the matter. The Goddess sensed my imbalance, and Albus faded from my vision, a white purifying aura surrounding me, soothing my soul. I stood in the glow, absorbing its comfort and strength, and as time passed, another spirit came to me. This one was a surprise, one I had not expected to see, but one that affected me more than any of the others. Signore Campta shimmered from the white aura, his hand on his heart, a warm smile on his face.

"You're a good girl, cara. Smart. Kind. You know, in your heart, what is right. Follow your heart; it is strong and true. It will lead you clearly."

The warmth of his presence, the tenderness of his voice, the gentle reassurance that I knew what was right was enough to set my resolve. Lowering to my knees, I sat, facing the setting moon, allowing the final moments of the aura to soak into my being. When I felt completely balanced and strong again, I rose, thanked the deities and the guardians, released the circle, and Apparated back to the gate outside Hogwarts. It was very late, and I was tired.

The walk up the hill wasn't as bad as the walk down. The fog had lifted, and the air had warmed slightly. By the time I reached the huge, oak doors, I was looking forward to a nice soft bed and sleeping in the next morning. Pushing the heavy planks open, I slipped into the brightly lit entranceway.

"Do you realize what time it is?" a smooth voice frosted the air. "This is a school, not your private residence, nor a hotel. You cannot simply come and go as you please. I must be notified."

I stopped short, stunned by the reprimand. I I_had/I _told him. He knew where I was going and that I'd be late.

"Have you nothing to say?" he demanded sharply.

"I'm very sorry, I_Sir/I_, but I did tell you that I'd be out," I responded, confused but keeping the balance.

"Are you being insolent?" he shot venomously, eyes flashing.

I stood watching him for a moment, our eyes meeting, but I was completely blocked. I_Occlumency/I _was cast to its fullest. I didn't understand.

"Certainly not," I responded, my calm demeanour from the evening's ritual beginning to fade, my balance beginning to tip.

Before I could continue, he spoke again, this time pacing the large flagstones that covered the floor of the entrance hall. "Have you no consideration for those who live at the castle? Are you so self-absorbed? You are a guest here, an unwelcome one at that. You are here for one purpose only and when that task is done, you are to leave. You are a disruption to the functioning of this school, and a distraction to many of the staff, and now, I must include some of the students. You are not a teacher. I don't care if you have "lectured" at university on occasion; it is not the same as being in a classroom on a daily basis. You don't have the skill to deal with children. Merlin forbid that you should ever have any of your own."

I didn't know what to say. Why was he doing this? I was speechless and decided to simply turn away and head toward the dungeons.

"I have not dismissed you!" he boomed, and I felt the sting of a hex across my back. He had cast a silent I_Impedimentia/I, _and I froze in my spot, my anger was rising rapidly.

The poltergeist, Peeves, began to cackle overhead. "Oooo, looky who's in trouble. Mistress D, so I see. Strip her naked to her knee. Hee hee hee," he sang from overhead.

Severus ignored the banter. "You leave when I say you leave. Know my authority here."

From my immobile state, I empathically reached out, I_Severus, why are you doing this?/I_ But, there was no response, merely silence. Was he still there? Closing my eyes, I focused on the power that surrounded me, but in a school with such a high level of energy, it was difficult to isolate just one. Severus' impression, however, was unmistakable. I could feel it, and my anger was still on the rise.

"Nothing to say, Mistress?" he goaded. "You're all about work, aren't you? I know your reputation. Self-righteous. Arrogant. Saving Muggles and werewolves. Think you're better than the rest of us. Well, who has the power now?"

My hands began to twitch as I fought the charm that held me in place. I was completely baffled by Severus' behaviour, and was fast becoming infuriated with his effective destruction of my peaceful evening and the personal attack.

"Bloody good thing you have no children," he continued ruthlessly. "They'd certainly die of neglect."

At that, my hands broke free, and the hex was shattered. I spun in absolute fury, my projective hand lashing out and casting, I_"Fulmini"/I. _It struck Severus squarely in the chest sending him flying backwards about ten feet, sliding another few on his backside. Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Slughorn, Flitwick, and Hooch entered through the front door returning from the Three Broomsticks just as I cast and stood in silent shock.

"Don't you ever cast on me again," I roared.

Peeves cackled hysterically from the rafters. "Poor Snivelling Snivellus. Got sma..."

He never finished his chant. I spun again, magically reaching to the ghost and clamping my hand as if around his throat. The poltergeist flailed his arms as I dragged him to floor level, gasping as if he couldn't breathe. "Shut up," I seethed as I flung him backward toward the ceiling once more, and he raced off down the corridor. Returning my attention to Severus, I found him furiously lifting himself from the floor. I pointed at him, shaking my finger, but unable to bring myself to speak. Spinning sharply and marching to the corridor that led to the dungeons, my mind was reeling. How dare he!

I never made it to my chambers, but detoured to the Administration Tower. I_He damn well better be there when I get there_,/I I thought as I stomped up the stairs that decided it would probably be wise to co-operate. Reaching the entrance to the Headmaster's office, I was still boiling as I strode past the gargoyle, climbed the stairs, and threw the inner doors open. Severus was inside, arms habitually crossed against his chest, standing in front of the desk, waiting. The portraits were all alert to the violent emotions so late at night.

"You sanctimonious pile of Hippogriff dung. What was that all about? Uncalled for, completely inane. What on earth…Don't you ever defile our son's memory." I pointed wrathfully at him as I paced the rug. "How dare you?" I raged, turning and striking him on the shoulders with my fists. "Never question my parenting. I was there, always. Never drag Saxon into your filth!" I readied to strike him again, but he caught my wrist, twisting my arms to my back, pulling me close against his chest. "Release me!" I growled, fighting against my husband, but he held me tight.

"I had to," he whispered as he held me in place.

"Had to? There are always options." I struggled against his grip. "And, you're hurting me."

"Things happened, and it was necessary to provide a scene," his voice was firm but calm.

"No one was there to see it until the end. What was the purpose?" I stopped resisting and glowered at the man I thought I knew.

"Amycus Carrow was hidden, waiting for you, behind the tapestry near the Great Hall. He didn't know that I knew he was there. Before dinner, Slughorn mentioned to several of the staff our encounter in the dungeons when I issued the invitation. I didn't think he noticed. I underestimated him and the looseness of his tongue." Severus began to slacken his grip but didn't let go. "Carrow confronted me before dinner, accusing me of sentiment. I had to prove him wrong. I had to make him see that you loathed me, and show that you had powers that ought not to be confronted."

"Well, you succeeded," I spat. "My arms." I drew his attention to my twisted limbs, and he slowly let go. I rubbed my biceps and rotated my shoulders. "And, the others?" I was gradually beginning to calm.

"Rosmerta closes her pub at one. It was a chance, but fate was with me. The more people who saw the fight, the less likely they are to put us together in the future."

I was beginning to understand, but I truly hated his method. I shook my head at him. "If you ever use Saxon in this fight again, I will blast you into oblivion," I threatened.

He nodded in understanding. Never get between a mother lion and her cub, even if it's only a memory. Husband or not, he knew I would rip him apart.


	57. Chapt 56 In the Aftermath

**56 – In The Aftermath**

The light but steady snore from the portraits gave testament to the late night of listening that went on in the Headmaster's office. The former Headmasters and Headmistresses stayed silent, completely attentive, as Severus and I hashed out our problems. We had progressed from pacing the Imperial rug in the main section of the room, snarling at each other, to quietly settling in front of the blazing fire. Severus had moved the twin armchairs close together and transfigured them in to a cosy, high-backed, double lounge complete with pillows and a soft blanket. Nestled together for the balance of the night (or early morning), taking comfort in the closeness that only each could give, talking in hushed and gentle tones, we came to an understanding and solution to our current situation. When the first rays of frosty dawn streaked through the diamond-paned windows, the portraits found us dozing in each other's arms, my head resting against his chest, peace finally reflecting in the glow of the dying embers.

"Now that's a sight I never thought I'd see," one whispering voice infiltrated into my dream-like state.

"Could you imagine having to live like that? Makes me feel rather sorry for him," another said in a hushed tone.

"All these years we've listened to the conversations held in this room, and when she joined him recently, I noticed they seemed rather familiar, but I never suspected this. How could they have kept it quiet? Albus…Albus…wake up. Why didn't you let us know?"

Albus grunted and stirred. "Her safety was of utmost importance," he spoke quietly so not to wake us. "Think back many years. There was once a child who came to this school in the cold of January after her parents were killed. A young girl from Italy."

"Yes, your granddaughter. I remember. What was her name? Alice? Annabelle?"

"Alicia," Albus interjected. "Her relationship to me was always kept secret. She was privately trained, and when she grew older joined the Order. Regrettably, she was captured and tortured most brutally. One man dared to rescue her, an old school friend with whom she shared a bond of trust. We chose to "bury" Alicia, and in time, created a new persona, one who could act independently of the Order but for the same cause; a ghost, so to speak. Daniella had to keep her talents and her connection to us hidden, although, she did arrive here once with their young son."

There was a collective gasp, and I smiled into Severus' chest, silently listening to the portraits quietly chatter.

"Mistress Di Marco is Alicia, your granddaughter?" one replied in shock.

Albus was silent, but I could envision the nod of his head as he acknowledged the realization.

"And she's married to Snape? And had his child? Merlin have mercy. She's one strong woman."

At this point, I felt Severus start to shake slightly, and as I tipped my head back, I could see his lips pressed together, stifling the chuckle. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead tenderly, then moved his lips to my ear. "They are so right. You're my rock. You always have been. You always will be."

I smiled at the praise and pulled him into a tight embrace. As our hearts touched, a thump vibrated through the still air, the sound of our bond, two hearts that beat to the same rhythm. It echoed quietly through the room, and the portraits went silent. We stirred and stretched, rolling over, and rising from opposite sides of the lounge. Our clothing was rumpled, our hair dishevelled, but we were happy. Moving to the back of the seat, we faced the portraits together. Severus stood proudly at my side, his arm slipping protectively around my shoulders as mine slid around his waist.

"Now you know," he said steadily. "If this information were to slip out, Daniella's life would be in great danger. She has achieved a great deal for Wizardkind, and her loss would be a loss for all. I trust that the loyalty shown for the Headmasters of the school holds and that what was revealed in this room remains here."

The portraits nodded their agreement.

"Does this mean we'll be seeing "more" of Mistress Di Marco?" Phineas asked lasciviously, tipping his head suggestively toward the lounge.

"Not in that fashion." Severus' height increased by about two inches as his eyes narrowed at his predecessor. That said, he spun and transfigured the lounge back into the wing chairs, took my hand, and led me to the fireplace. "This has been connected since your arrival," he informed me quietly. "And, as Hogwarts has protections of its own, it cannot be detected by outside forces. It has been difficult to resist the temptation, but now…" Severus grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the dying embers. Pulling me into the fireplace, he commanded, "Mistress Di Marco's quarters". With a whoosh, we left the chattering portraits behind for the privacy and seclusion of my rooms.

"Oh, that feels so good," I moaned from my prone position, the sheets soft and warm against my skin. "Right there. Mmm, yes," I sighed. The pressure was just right.

"What if I do this?" Severus smoothly asked moving his hands seductively as he shifted his hips lower.

I giggled and quickly drew my arms down. "Ticklish," I announced.

"Really? Something to tuck into my memory," Severus smirked, his left eyebrow comically raised, as he changed position.

"Ammunition for later?" I asked twisting my head backward and lifting it slightly from the feather pillow.

Severus' ebony eyes glistened in the mid-morning sun, as he remained silent, a crooked smile grew on his thin lips. He poured more scented oil onto his hands and rubbed them together, warming it, and continued the assault. Equally naked, he straddled my backside while his hands massaged the oil into my back: long, elegant fingers expertly working out the knots in the muscles.

I groaned. "If you ever give up Potions, you'd make a fabulous masseur."

"You think?" he responded silkily as he moved down the bed "hmming" as he began to massage my gluteus. Drizzling the oil down my spine to the cleft of my buttocks, I could feel the heat rise as he worked his way down my legs, seductively running a hand up the inside of my thigh, "accidentally" caressing the folds that were rapidly becoming moist. My breath caught in my throat, and my leg muscles tightened slightly in response. He repeated the motion, which elicited a more intense reaction. I could sense the satisfied smirk on his face as his hands slid over my thighs and along my hips, pulling my massage-limp body to its knees. Feeling him adjust to the new position, and in one, smooth, slow motion, he pressed inside, the oil acting as an additional lubricant. My temperature rose immediately. This was our third union since arriving in my chambers in the early hours of morning, but it certainly had not lessened in intensity. Now, I understood the reason why the quarters had no pictures: complete and utter privacy, Severus' wishful thinking that he would get in here somehow. I smiled at the thought as we leisurely worked through the motion.

"Stop," I moaned, leaning away from him. Turning around, I met him on his knees placing feather light kisses across the dark hair on his chest, climbing my way up his collarbone to his neck and toward the rough stubble on his jaw. His fingers lightly drew a line from my shoulders to my breasts, gently running over the nipples, sending a spark through my entire body. Pressing close, our arms enfolded each other in a gentle embrace, and we tumbled to the surface of the bed, face to face, hands caressing slowly, a roll here, a flick there, added pressure in just the right spots. I pulled back slightly as my hands worked over his midriff toward his groin. I wanted to see his expression change, the phases of euphoria as he reached climax, but he stopped me.

"Too much," he uttered straining for control.

I smirked as I rolled him onto his back and climbed across his hips. Slowly lowering myself, we were united again; only this time there was no stopping. With our fingers linked, I rode his body while a crimson flush spread up my chest to my neck and into my cheeks as I reached boiling point. The muscles that he had worked so hard to loosen tightened as I arched backward, feeling the burn. His grip on my fingers matched mine on his, and when I looked down, there was that priceless expression, one that passed from comfortable pleasure to ecstasy. His climax followed mine within seconds, and after a moment of reprieve, I lowered to his side, while he laid spread eagle on his back.

"Gods, that was good," he breathed staring up at the white ceiling.

_Accio_'ing the blanket that, at some point during the morning, had been tossed onto the floor, I covered us as his arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close.

"You do realize that at some point today, you will have to emerge, if only to frighten a few first-years," I chuckled lightly from the warm confines of the dark, four-poster bed.

"Shhh," he hushed me, his eyes peacefully closed. "I'm not here. I'm in Spain."

Smiling, I held him securely in a loving embrace, "Sonno, il mio amore. Il mondo attenderà." ("Sleep, my love. The world will wait.")

"I think that's brilliant. Cruel to be kind," I praised as I popped another square of cheese into my mouth. "The Potter boy will be less tempted to make a surprise appearance in Hogsmeade if he knows that his girlfriend is banned from the village. She must have been livid." I shook my head impressively at the master of deception.

"Rather she hate me than jeopardize the entire operation based on teenage hormones. I'm accustomed to their loathing," he deadpanned as he reached across the table for the pate and crackers.

Pinky had supplied a tray of nibble foods for lunch, as neither Severus nor I were very hungry. She was delighted to see him in my quarters, but her ears turned bright pink when he emerged from the bathroom in nothing more than a towel. I had tried to convince him to remove the dreadful Reverse Glamour Charm, but he flatly refused, stating that any sort of slip could be detrimental. I understood, but I was beginning to miss seeing the man _I_ knew. It had been so long.

"I plan to check on Potter tomorrow. Is that all right with you?" I informed him.

"You don't need to ask my permission, just let me know so I don't worry, and be careful. The Dark Lord has supporters stationed everywhere, and many cannot differentiate their arse from their elbow. They may be loyal, but they're a stupid lot." He leaned back in his chair and examined me intently. "That necklace," he motioned to my neck, "the one with the vial. Where did you get it?" he asked curiously.

"Albus," I stated pulling the black silk cord from around my neck. "It was in the box that I received after the funeral."

"Do you know what's in it?" he asked reaching over to examine the silver bird.

"I have my suspicions," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "You haven't tested it?"

"No. There's so little of it, and it came with a note that said "For emergencies only"." I tucked it back under my shirt. "I was thinking, on the list that came with the box, Albus had written the word "sword", but I didn't see a sword in the office. Do you know anything about it?"

"Yes," Severus nodded, his scowl returning. "Potter's friends tried to steal it recently. Part of the reason Miss Weasley is banned from Hogsmeade. I don't know how they managed to get into the office, but they were halfway down the stairs with it before Phineas sought me out and let me know what was happening. It's the sword of Godric Gryffindor. You said it's on Albus' list? A possible horcrux, then? Impossible. Albus used the sword to break the curse on that gaudy ring."

"Really? Interesting." I leaned back thinking.

"He left the sword to Potter in his will, but the school governors and the Ministry refused to let it go. It wasn't Albus' to give away and was returned to Hogwarts. After the attempted theft, I made a copy and placed the fake in Lestrange's vault at Gringotts."

My eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

"The Dark Lord heard about it and wanted it. I provided it. He never verified the authenticity," Severus explained.

"And, the real one?" I asked.

"Safe. Something tells me that Potter is going to need this sword in the future. He's used it before, and it wouldn't hurt to have it in the final confrontation," Severus surmised.

I agreed. We'd have to find a way for Potter to locate the sword without him realizing who it came from.

The early afternoon slipped by, and Severus finally had to leave. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and students who had gone to the village would be returning soon. As he drew me into a tender hug near the fireplace, he expressed that he would try to return later, but couldn't make any promises. I smiled and kissed him in return. I didn't care. We had had our moment, but I hoped it wouldn't be the last. I understood the risk. With a pinch of Floo powder, he returned to the Headmaster's office to continue the role as most vile Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, and I headed to the familiar haunt of the lab.

The light knock drew my attention from the simmering cauldron to the secure door of the Potions lab. Sliding off the stool, I wandered over to see who would be visiting. No one came to the lab. It was deemed "off limits" by the Headmaster. I feared that it maybe a curious Master Slughorn or perhaps that contemptible Professor Carrow. The knock sounded a bit more forceful as I reached the door and opened it.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, my dear, but I was delegated to see how you're doing," the stout Herbology professor chirped.

I smiled kindly and invited her in, closing the door behind. "I'm fine," I reassured with a disheartened voice. Now, I had yet another a role to play. "I'm sorry you had to see that last night."

"Sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. I rather enjoyed seeing Severus being knocked on his backside," she chuckled lightly. "Interesting talent, though. Not many have a gift for such strong and directed wandless magic, and toward non-corporeal beings as well. Very interesting." I remained silent. "We were concerned for you, especially when Minerva came down last night to check on you, and you weren't here, and then we didn't see you today."

"I confronted Master Snape again in the Headmaster's office. Needless to say, we had it out. I realize that my being here is a distraction, but he had no right to attack me like that." I turned and moved toward the workstation.

Professor Sprout shook her head. "You must be careful, dear. He's a dangerous man. In league with…" she furtively looked around, "You-Know-Who," she whispered. "Quite high up, too, so I hear."

"I'm aware of that, and I will be careful," I replied cautiously.

"Horace says that you've known Severus for some time, that you two were once, umm…close. Is that true?" she questioned curiously.

I wondered if confirming that tidbit of information was part of her task, too. Hmmm, how much could I say without flat out lying to the woman? "I've know Master Snape for nearly twenty years." I chose my words carefully. "During his last months of apprenticeship, he and his Master came to Italy to do some research. We met. I guess you could say that we developed a friendship, but his manner became rather difficult to tolerate. He returned to England. I remained in Italy. We saw each other occasionally at Society functions. He's not a nice person, but he's never been openly aggressive with me…until last night. I wasn't about to put up with it."

At that perfect moment, the cauldron that I had been watching began to bubble and a cloud of tangerine steam belched forth, drawing my attention away from my visitor and back to the task at hand. Professor Sprout stayed a while longer, and I explained my theory and how the Dalphinius Sousterra was a critical ingredient. She was very proud that one of her plants could be of use, but I lost her with the technical explanation of how it would affect brain function. As the dinner bell rang, she wished me a "good evening" and expressed her desire to have me join them again. I smiled in appreciation, but claimed a long night ahead, now that the potion seemed ready for the first trial. She would relay to the others that I was fine.

As the outer door closed, the door at the back of the lab opened.

"I thought she'd never leave," Severus sighed as he entered from my chambers.

"She does like to talk, doesn't she? How long have you been waiting?" I grinned.

"Not long," he casually replied sauntering over to the simmering cauldron.

"Will you be heading up to dinner as well?" I asked.

"Yes. The story of our confrontation went through the school like wildfire. My appearance this afternoon, confirmed that I am as…unpleasant as ever, even more so, perhaps, after being knocked down by a girl," he smirked, glancing up at me through the curtain of greasy hair. "I should make certain that everyone knows that we have no connection."

"Too bad," I pouted humorously. "I was hoping that since you're here you'd stay for dinner. I'm certain that Pinky can discretely whip something up, although I'd really love a cooker, so that I could cook for you again."

Severus raised his eyebrows in interest. "I thought you had work to do," he motioned to the tangerine brew.

Cocking my head to one side, I held my hands out like a balance. "Hmm, work. You. Work. You." I pretended to weigh the options. "Not really a choice now, is it?" I replied, sauntering seductively around the workstation to stop in front of my husband.

"I really should go. How would I explain my absence?" he purred as our noses met.

"Do you _ever_ explain your absence?" I breathed as our lips brushed lightly.

"Never," he muttered into my mouth, ending the conversation abruptly with a deep kiss.


	58. Chapt 57 Reprieve

**57 - Reprieve**

A light layer of snow covered the path that led from the castle to the groundskeeper's cottage. The lee side of the hill was comfortably protected from the wintry wind that blew across the expanse at the bottom, blustering the fluffy stuff into small whirlwinds, piling it against outcrops of rock and the fence surrounding Hagrid's frozen garden.

I pulled my toque over my ears and jogged down the hill, careful not to slip on the patches of ice on the stone steps, heading for the shelter of the forest. I had been inside far too long and needed to breathe the crisp air and feel the sun on my face. Well, at least I got to breathe the crisp air. The cloud coverage was very thick, casting a dreary grey over the landscape, and more snow was forecasted for the evening. Reaching the boundary of the woods, my mind began to review the activities of the past few weeks. I seldom saw Severus in the halls, but when I did, we snarled at each other appropriately. Sometimes, he would make a curt comment, but more often than not, he pretended to ignore me.

He had been called to Voldemort's inner circle a few times, and I wanted to shadow him, but he emphatically refused. Although I had been to Malfoy Manor in previous years, now that Voldemort had taken residence there, Severus would not let me penetrate the defences. My heart thumped at his protectiveness, but I felt helpless to ease his misery. On the days of the meetings, he would avoid me completely, training his mind on the task at hand. Any slip would be detrimental – to both of us. Secretly, I sent Stark to keep a guarded eye on things. He would watch from an outside window, careful not to be seen by those inside, and report back when Severus left to return home.

At school, the poor man was on the receiving end of a near-mutiny by the students, and as a result, had reinstated some unpopular rules that had been established by Dolores Umbridge when she had been temporary Headmistress. Students were no longer to create clubs or gather in groups of more than three. I found it a bit ridiculous, but on a surprise visit to the lab one quiet afternoon, he briefly explained the necessity. The grumbles could be heard all over the school, and even the teachers, with the exclusion of the Carrows, had little good to say about him. Tension was high, and I sensed it all the way into the dungeons.

His only escape was the occasional visit with me, and our outings to check on the Potter boy. As for those excursions, we found the boy as lost and confused as he was a month ago. He had not progressed at all, and his friend had still not returned. This seemed to slow both him and Miss Granger down. They weren't thinking clearly, and we were beginning to believe that the locket might be having a negative effect on their behaviour. I also considered that young Mister Weasley might need a little push in the right direction and considered using the pendulum to locate him, but was uncertain whether I should interfere.

Jogging further into the woods, following the known path that the Centaurs allowed me to traverse, I inhaled deeply as I ran, letting the scent of pine and woods infiltrate my deprived nostrils, while a healthy flush began to colour my cheeks. I had been to see Madam Pomfrey on a few occasions, and the vow she made as Severus' and my Secret Keeper still held, although she had to trust that I knew what I was doing. Her faith in Severus had been badly shaken, even though she knew very well the double role he played. As suggested at the first meeting, I restocked some of the hospital wing's basic supplies, mostly Pepper Up Potion, a Willowbark and Feverfew tincture, a salve for chapped skin, and most recently, with Christmas exams coming up, a Concentration Potion. The matron was pleased to have me visit, and we talked about a variety of things, from my work at St. Mungo's to events at the school. She tried hard not to take sides and suggested that if Severus and I needed a "diversion" to gain some privacy, she would gladly assist. I appreciated the offer. She was a friendly woman, and very protective of her charges.

My mind continued to ease as I rounded the bend to parallel the river. At St. Mungo's, Healer Puddiwell was pleased with the progress of the new potion, although he realized that it still needed refinement. In theory, the combination of ingredients was accurate; it was the measurements, brewing time, and dosage that required adjustments. That's all, just a few "minor" quirks. I snorted as I gracefully leaped over a fallen branch, _should take a month or two, or six_. I knew that it would work, should work. It was a matter of _getting_ it to work. The last test subject had shown improvement and began to piece some memories together, however, he could only remember things from his early childhood involving the gruesome dissection of certain pond creatures with his older brother, nothing more. With that, I questioned the original stability of the man's mind. While at St. Mungo's, I had also checked on the Longbottoms, and was saddened to see that their progress had stagnated. Although Alice was still trying to reach out to certain staff members, it had become less overt, and Frank seemed to regress to his previous silent caution. We suspected that it had to do with the Dark Lord's rising. The Longbottoms were mentally impaired, not deaf. Certainly they'd heard and understood what was going on, and it most likely frightened them.

The path narrowed, and the trees grew thicker. It smelled so good, and I was finally relaxed. My thoughts returned to Severus as I moved through the dense woods, pushing some of the low branches aside. Although we didn't speak publicly, privately, he would show up at my quarters, usually after picking over his dinner in the Great Hall. A cooker had "appeared" in the small kitchenette, and he enjoyed joining me for a good Italian meal. Some nights, we would sit and talk by the fire or simply rest, enjoying the silent and comfortable company of each other. He had also begun to visit when everyone was in class, and he knew I'd be in the lab. He would putter around the workstation, passing ingredients and making suggestions, and I could tell just how much he missed this kind of work. It had once been his passion, just like it was mine. His visits were never very long, just enough to regain some balance in his life, but I would take any time that he could spare for me.

Puffing with exertion, the perspiration beginning to trickle down my spine and around my temples, I emerged on the opposite side of the forest near the lake. The giant squid could be seen in the distance flipping a tentacle across the surface as if waving to those passing by. Albus' tomb sat cold and alone by the water's edge. I remembered having to sit so far away from the crowd at the funeral and was saddened by the memory of always having to stay distant. Albus had never made life easy for me. We never got personal, and there was always an ulterior motive. I had learned to accept that as his way, but it still hurt and angered me. As I jogged closer, my feet silently striking the snow, I sensed that he was not alone after all.

"And, what if we get caught?" a familiar male voice firmly whispered.

"What more can he do? Detentions? For Merlin's sake, he sent us to Hagrid. Scrubbing cauldrons? Banning us from Hogsmeade? Already been done. He's running out of ideas, and we have to do something. Harry is going to need help, and we have to be ready when the fight comes," a female voice argued.

"I miss the DA," a dreamy voice uttered. "I agree. We need to be ready."

"You're right, you need to be prepared, and you can't get caught," I quietly rounded to the side of the tomb that faced the water. The six students that were huddled on the frozen ground jumped. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell," I reassured, crouching to meet them, my lips twitching kindly. "I don't think I have to tell you to be careful."

"Are you in trouble? Who were you running from?" Neville asked with concern seeing my flushed face.

My smile broadened. "I'm not in trouble. I run to relax and to stay fit."

"I've heard that training your body for strength and endurance increases your ability for wandless magic," the wistful blonde observed.

A fellow classmate snorted with derision, obviously ready to ridicule the girl, but Neville shot him warning glare, and he fell silent.

"You're right," I took note. "You're in seventh-year. In your Defence classes have you not learned about wandless magic and non-verbal commands?"

"We're not all seventh-year," Neville pointed out. "And, we started learning them last year with…Professor Snape." His brows knitted together.

I tipped my head sideways at him. "Interesting how such a spiteful teacher would concern himself with instructing you on such important methods of defence, especially in light of who he's suspected to be involved with." I let them think for a moment, then cast a silent command toward a pile of snow, moving my gloved fingers instructively, creating a small mound of snowballs. Rising to my feet, I leaned my hand against the tomb for balance. As I did, a pale white aura formed around the smooth marble and me. The students gasped slightly. "Must be the play of lights," I explained dismissively, but thought how curious the glow was. "I happen to know that your Headmaster is out of the school at the moment. I used to be pretty good at this. I wonder if I've lost my touch."

"Pretty good at wh…?" Neville didn't have a chance to finish as a snowball splattered into his left shoulder. He looked at me with amused shock. I had merely flicked a finger to direct the aim.

"Hmm, still pretty good," I smirked as I prepared to launch another one.

At that, Neville was on his feet, as were the others, wands out, making and launching snowballs, carefree laughter filling the frosty air. Some resorted to the Muggle method as it was faster and easier. Ginny quickly got the hang of the non-verbal command and was rapidly sending her projectiles in different directions. I sensed a strong power from her. Luna had cast a Protective Charm over herself to deflect the snow and watched with deer-eyed curiosity as each ball exploded across the invisible barrier. It was great fun and a wonderful release, but before long it was necessary to return to the castle.

The sun was beginning to set as we traipsed up the hill, laughing and knocking the snow from each other. However, as we pushed the massive, front doors open, a scowling-faced Professor Carrow met us in the foyer.

"Breakin' the rules," the DADA professor snarled as we tumbled through the entrance. "There's seven of ya. Too many. Detention with me, and the Headmaster doesn't have to know," he stated with a nasty curl of his lip as he eagerly rubbed his hands together.

"I think not." I let my Italian accent rise over the students' heads. "They were out with me. I had some work to do, and they were helping." I stepped from the back of the group to face his twisted expression. "I'm aware of the rule, however, their assistance was needed."

"I don't like bein' challenged, missy. They was laughin', and carryin' on. They was out playin'." Carrow's glower deepened as he took a step closer, his stale breath hot against my face.

I stood my ground, although I wanted to recoil from the smell. "It was not a challenge, merely an explanation for their behaviour." _Back away from me_, I sent, and Carrow unconsciously took a step backward. I turned to dismiss the students. "Thank you for your help. I very much enjoyed your company. Maybe we'll get to do it again." I smiled as the group quickly and nervously dispersed. When they left, I spun toward the exit for the dungeons, attempting to avoid my antagonist, but Carrow blocked my path.

"I know," he began maliciously, closing the distance once more. "'bout you an' Snape."

I instinctively cast _Occlumency_, and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Pulling myself to full height, and meeting his eyes, I replied calmly, "Know what? That he's a vile man, without conscience?"

His eyes opened his mind, and I saw that he was incapable of _Leglimency_, or _Occlumency_ for that matter. I smiled inwardly, but my smile faded with his next words.

"I know what the Dark Lord wants and the only reason Snape allows ya to stay," Carrow spoke in a warning whisper. His lips twisted wickedly upward. "Enjoy your time here…while ya can," he cautioned as he turned toward the stairs leading away from the Great Hall.


	59. Chapt 58 Grown Up Christmas List

**58 – Grown Up Christmas List**

"_Do you remember me? I sat upon your knee. I wrote to you with childhood fantasy._

_Well, I'm all grown up now, and still need help somehow. I'm not a child but my heart still can dream. _

_So here's my lifelong wish, my grown up Christmas list, not for myself but for a world in need. _

_No more lives torn apart that wars would never start, and time would heal all hearts._

_Everyone would have a friend, and right would always win, and love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._

_As children we believe, the grandest sight to see was something lovely wrapped beneath our tree._

_Well, heaven surely knows that packages and bows can never heal a hurting human soul._

_No more lives torn apart that wars would never start, and time would heal all hearts._

_Everyone would have a friend, and right would always win, and love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list._

_But, is this illusion called the innocence of youth? Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth._

_No more lives torn apart that wars would never start, and time would heal all hearts._

_Everyone would have a friend, and right would always win, and love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list."_

The melody rose, hanging in the frigid air, suspended notes that slowly dissipated on the frosty breeze. I stood, pulling my cloak tightly around my tired body, gazing out at the expanse of bright stars that glittered in the crisp, midnight sky.

"I don't remember the last time I heard you sing," a smooth baritone voice quietly echoed off the cold, stone walls, cutting into the last few notes of the song. "It was beautiful." Severus stepped onto the platform of the North Tower, his feet silent on the flagstone. "This tower is off limits. What are you doing up here?"

"Thinking," I softly replied, keeping my back to the newcomer. "Are you sure it's safe to talk openly?" I questioned, tipping my head over my left shoulder as he approached.

"I checked before showing myself. Except for you, the wards had not been disturbed. We're alone," he stated moving beside me. "Still, you shouldn't be here."

"This is the first time since I've arrived at the castle. I felt the need." I turned to look into hooded eyes. "This is the place where we had our first conversation."

"Yes, and if I recall, you interrupted my solitude," he smirked sadly.

"If _I_ recall, you interrupted my ritual." I smiled back, but both of our smiles faded with the awareness of more recent events that had transpired in this tower. Six months ago, a battle had taken place that changed the course of many lives. Memories were still fresh, and a small memorial stood at the base of the stairwell to signify an important loss. Severus would have a full-blown uprising on his hands if he tried to remove it, so it remained as a constant, painful reminder of what had happened. As a precaution, though, he had warded the tower and forbidden anyone from attempting to venture up there, but I had circumvented his wards, old magic dominating over new. Returning to my stance overlooking the castle grounds, Severus stood silently beside but slightly behind me, a foot from the half-wall, careful not to get too close.

"I had to do it," he said barely above a whisper, following my gaze into the heavens. "He gave me no choice."

"I know," I responded soothingly. "He didn't give many people a choice. He was a master at what he did." Silently turning, I buried my face in Severus' chest and quietly wept, my arms reaching around his waist as he tenderly embraced me, his chin resting on the top of my head. We stayed like that for a few moments, and when the tears stemmed, we simply relaxed in the comfort and warmth of each other's arms, our hearts touching, gaining strength.

"I heard what happened with Carrow the other day. That was dangerous. Why didn't you let me know?" Severus asked, still holding on.

"I haven't seen you, and sensed that there was something more important going on. I figured you'd come to me in time. What did you tell Carrow about me?"

He was still for a moment, but I felt his body tighten with tension. "I told him that the Dark Lord once had an interest in you, that someone had tried to procure your talents but had failed. That although, I wanted to be rid of you, it was important to keep you feeling secure, the Dark Lord's orders."

"Did he not question why _Imperio_ wasn't used?" I asked.

"He did, and I explained that you are so cautious that you employ a Protective Shield at all times. You would be aware if anyone tried to cast upon you, and would, therefore, be more apprehensive and probably leave." I nodded in understanding as he paused for a moment, then he quietly informed me, "Nagini has disappeared. The Dark Lord is telling no one of her whereabouts, but I have my suspicions. Have you checked on Potter lately?"

I nodded again against his thin chest, my cheek rubbing on the rough, wool, frock coat. "They haven't moved for the past two days. Phineas says that the girl keeps reading some book of fairy tales, and they think someone named Bathilda Bagshot has the sword."

"She used to teach here, many years ago. She was a friend of Albus', too. Phineas has also said that they've been talking about a symbol that keeps reappearing, something about Grindelwald," Severus uttered. "Gods, I hope they don't go off track," he sighed.

We were silent again, resting comfortably.

"Slughorn keeps nattering at me about the Yule celebration at the Society. I haven't been in at least two years. He said that he missed last year, because he was here."

"I didn't go last year, either," Severus replied. "Are you thinking of going this year?" He pulled his head back to look down at me.

I drew a deep breath. "I don't know." I smiled slightly. "I've missed our annual dance. If we go this year, I'd owe you two."

Severus snorted lightly, his lips curling upward. "Learn to count. You'd owe me three. One for this year, and one for each of the years you've missed."

I beamed. "You'd actually dance three dances with me? Ooo, the scandal." My smile immediately dropped. "And, the danger. It would be a risk."

"Who said they all had to be at the celebration? One there, two in your quarters afterward." His ebony eyes were beginning to smoulder in the dim light of the torch on the wall.

My smile broadened again, and I gave him a tight, loving squeeze.

Diagon Alley bustled with holiday shoppers. Even with many of the shops closed, I was able to find a few items of interest for Christmas gifts, and a new robe for the Yule celebration. I smiled mischievously as the purchases were packed into a shopping bag. Severus was going to love his present.

Heading into downtown London to finish my spree, I telephoned Emily to ask what the children would like for the holiday. Colin answered. Emily was out, but he paused, could we meet? He needed to discuss something and suggested that I go to his office at St. Mary's Hospital. He'd be there shortly. I hoped everything was all right. He sounded worried. Finishing my task and reducing my bags to fit inside a pocket, I found a deserted alley and Disapparated to a service passage by the hospital. Entering through the automated doors of the main lobby, and passing a small, silver Christmas tree that decorated a remote corner of the grey and white room, I headed for the elevator that would take me to Colin's office. Ascending to the third floor, I pushed open the glass door to the empty waiting room. The lone nurse behind a long counter raised her head in interest.

"The doctor is out at the moment," she announced as she filed a stack of papers onto a shelf behind her.

"I know. He should be here soon. We have an appointment," I replied, removing my cloak and placing it over my arm.

"Really? There's nothing in his book." She opened a large ledger and looked down the list.

"We just spoke on the telephone. He asked me to wait," I replied, patiently turning to examine the bright, child-like pictures on the walls.

Soon, the door opened again, and Colin entered, startling at seeing me there. "That was fast," he stated while swinging his coat from his shoulders.

"I was nearby," I replied pleasantly.

He directed his attention to the nurse for a moment. "Could you bring some tea in for Dr. Di Marco and me?" He, then, led me into his sterile office, leaving the door slightly ajar, and sat behind his small metal desk.

I raised my eyebrows at him, questioningly. "Is everything all right? You sounded a bit off on the phone."

He leaned back in his chair, his elbow resting on the arm, a finger tapping at his lips, pensively looking at me. "I think I need your help," he said as the nurse entered with the tea. He acknowledged her and indicated that she close the door on the way out. "I don't know if this goes against any "code" or anything like that, but I have a situation that needs a miracle." I leaned back, listening. "I have a patient, a young girl, who has recently been diagnosed with brain cancer. The tumour is on the left side of the frontal lobe and is applying substantial pressure to the area affecting motor function, but it has also begun to affect higher cognitive functions such as behaviour and emotion. It's growing rapidly, and her prognosis is not good. I've known the family since before she was born. They've had a string of unusually bad luck, and her older brother was recently killed in a car accident. I fear that the loss of the surviving child will tear this couple to pieces. Your specialty is the functions of the brain, particularly in conjunction with lymph node cancer. I was wondering if you'd take a look."

"Of course," I replied sincerely. "But, I'm not a brain surgeon or an oncologist. I am a doctor of pharmacology, a researcher. The poor parents," I paused for a moment. "What did you mean about going against a "code"?"

My old friend looked uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "As I said, she, they need a miracle. Is it possible…? I mean, do you think…?" he sputtered, not able to get the words out. Taking a deep breath, he spewed forward, "My grandmother used to be able to heal minor cuts and broken bones and such. I was too young to realize what she was doing, but now, knowing what you are, it makes sense. Could you…?" He waved his hand over the desk as if casting a spell.

"You want me to use magic to see if I could heal this girl?" I asked incredulously.

He nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry." He shook his head. "We've tried everything, short of surgery, and I'd rather not see this child put through that. Her family has been through enough."

I rose and placed my teacup on the edge of his desk. "I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do. Magic can only go so far." I smiled at my friend.

He looked relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Rising to join me, we left the office and walked through the waiting room. "We're going to see Sara." He smiled at the nurse.

The walk to the Juvenile Oncology ward was short. Sara was a delightful little girl, not much older than Adrianne, and I could see why she affected Colin so much. She was so full of life. I examined her charts and the MRI scans, then took a look at the child. Colin was right. The tumour was in a very sensitive spot. Even the most skilled surgeon would have difficulty getting at it without damaging the surrounding tissue. We dimmed the lights and had Sara sit very quietly as I placed my hands on either side of her head. Focusing all of my concentration on the cancerous area, I made a magical analysis. Shaking my head, I didn't know what to say. This was serious, and magic has its limitations.

When I left the hospital, I left with a copy of the child's file. No promises were made except that I would review the case. I feared the child would indeed need a miracle.

Pinky left in the early afternoon, anxious and excited to be helping the Society elves once again. She had buzzed around my chamber all morning making certain that her duties to me were taken care of before heading on her way. Her ears glowed pink, and her bulbous eyes shone brightly. She looked precious, and I felt so lucky to have her.

Students were preparing to leave for the holidays the following day with very few remaining at the castle. It seemed that most families were weary of the new Headmaster and wanted to keep their children close in such dangerous times. Only those with no other option were staying. A few remaining professors had planned some activities, and there was to be a special lunch on Christmas day with the staff and students. I had been included in that plan.

Having soaked in a luxurious bath of scented bubbles for half an hour, my skin held the light fragrance. Towelling off, I fashioned my hair into a low bun, golden brown tendrils framing my face and hanging down my neck. For the first time in a long time, I looked healthy, happy, and as I slipped the robe over the matching shift and laced up the bodice, I smiled satisfactorily at the reflection in the wardrobe mirror. The robe was midnight blue silk, silver knot work covering the bodice and edging the sleeves. A thin silver cord wove indiscernibly through the knot work to fasten the bodice and hung decoratively down the front of the skirt, almost to the ankles. The style was haut-couture for the Wizard world as it had a slender cut rather than the multiple yards of flowing fabric. It accentuated the curves that I was trying so hard to tone, and my mother's sapphire drop necklace and earrings matched perfectly, the stone nestling comfortably at the top of my cleavage.

When the clock struck seven, I began to make my way from the dungeons to the Great Hall. Master Slughorn had suggested that since the three of us were going, it would be prudent to leave at the same time and travel together. Severus had huffed at the suggestion, but eventually relented. Climbing the last flight of stairs that led to the entryway, I encountered a small cluster of sixth-year girls on the top landing curiously peering around the corner and into the foyer.

"I wonder where they're going?" one whispered. "They're all dressed up."

"Fancy. Look at Slughorn's vest. It's blinding," another giggled.

"Snape actually looks…umm…good," a third carefully ventured to the shocked expressions of her classmates. "Well, I mean…he's not scowling, and his hair looks clean. And, that sash, so Slytherin." They all giggled.

"They're both Potions Masters. Do you think, maybe, there's, I don't know, some sort of function tonight?" the first asked.

"Tonight is Yule," I quietly informed the girls upon my approach. "The Society of Potions Masters has an annual celebration."

Their mouths dropped as they turned to acknowledge me, eyes shining at my attire. "Wow," one breathed. "You look great."

I smiled and tipped my head in thanks, excusing myself as I passed through the girls and headed toward my colleagues.

"It's about bloody well time," Severus snarled as I crossed the flagstone floor, and as Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey entered from a side corridor.

"Don't you ever smile?" I sighed which elicited a chuckle from the women.

"I don't think he knows how." Slughorn jovially slapped Severus on the arm. "Come, I have a surprise waiting." He began to direct us toward the door, but as he did, a loud grumble was emitted from his stomach, and he winced in pain. We stopped, and he placed his hand over the large expanse. "I'm fine," he assured shakily, but with another step, he nearly doubled, his face turning a pallid, sickly green, beads of sweat forming across his brow. "Oh," he groaned. "I guess I shouldn't have had those candied pineapples after dinner."

I slipped my arm through his, steadying him while Madam Pomfrey came to investigate. A quick flash of her wand and she announced that he had a touch of the flu. He was in no condition to attend a party tonight and ordered him to bed. His crestfallen face clearly showed his disappointment, but another wave of stomach cramps confirmed the need to remain behind. As Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall assisted Master Slughorn to the Slytherin exit, Severus and I stood in the main hall watching.

"So, who's goin' to a party?" Hagrid boomed as he pushed the front doors open. His great furry coat and shaggy hair was covered with fresh snow, his impish grin showing through the beard.

I looked up at Severus and swung my cloak around my shoulders. "I am," I announced. "Are you coming?" I called to Severus while heading toward the door. Severus drew himself to full height and followed, that scowl was back on his face at being summoned. Outside, a beautiful sleigh was waiting, a Thestral harnessed to the front, a fur blanket across the seat.

"Professor Slughorn thought it would be great fun to go by sleigh. What happen' to 'im?" Hagrid asked curiously looking for the older man.

"He fell ill at the last moment," Severus sneered, eyeing the jingle bells that decorated the yoke, with disdain.

"But, we'll take it," I beamed hauling myself onto our ride.

Severus followed with an exasperated sigh, a flick of his wand removing the joyous chimes. Climbing in behind me and sitting in the "driver's" seat, he scowled as I spread the blanket across our laps. Hagrid, who had been holding the creature steady, let go, and we were off, the runners smoothly moving along the snow. As the Thestral's great, leathery wings spread and we finally took flight, I began to giggle. Father Christmas had nothing on a Thestral pulled sleigh.

Once we were out of range from the castle, we simultaneously asked the obvious. "Did you cast to make Slughorn sick?" "No, wasn't me." "Then, who?" "Poppy!" We both laughed as we came to the same conclusion.

The Society's Manor House was bedecked in its usual holiday splendour, holly wreaths and garland strung elegantly from the windows and doors. Severus and I had chatted pleasantly on the way, but as we approached the pristine structure, his manner hardened as he got into character. As the sleigh smoothly glided onto a vacant patch near the Apparition Garden, several witches and wizards turned to view the sight. Some snickered, and some outright gaped as we came to a halt, and they recognized the occupants. Severus was the first to throw off the blanket and disembark and was half way up the broad steps before I could even gather myself to step down.

_What a gentleman! _I thought sardonically while watching his retreating back and nearly tumbling from the vehicle.

At the celebration, we went our separate ways. I mingled delightedly with those in attendance while Severus accosted the nearest house elf with a drink tray and rapidly downed a shot of Firewhiskey. Master Whitherling brought his wife, and we chatted amiably. Their young son was growing like a weed, and they proudly showed pictures. Chairwizard Castwell was charming as always, but eyed Severus suspiciously. He knew that I was at Hogwarts this year, and I could tell that he didn't trust Severus' allegiances, although nothing, at the moment, could be proven. I explained that Master Slughorn had arranged for the sleigh, not Severus, as he felt that three travelling together would be safer. Castwell nodded in agreement but was still concerned about my company.

Master Trevedi cornered me by the refreshment table about half way through the evening. He had been doing a study and was curious about the Muggle cancer research that I had done over the years, asking why I hadn't used magic in the formula. It would have been more effective with a Chemical Balancing Spell. I agreed, but explained that in the Muggle world treatments had to be created in order to be replicated in mass quantities, often by a team of people. I had to produce something that a Muggle scientist would be capable of duplicating.

"But, it doesn't work to its fullest capacity," he frown.

"I know, but as a witch living and working in a non-magical world, I couldn't draw suspicious attention to myself," I replied.

"Too bad. So many lives could be saved," he thought out loud as the conversation ended, and he wandered away, leaving me to think.

The sound of a gentle waltz drifted on the air, and the guests parted as a tall, black clad Slytherin made his way across the room. My lips twitched upward.

_He's going to make a production of it_, I snickered to myself.

As he arrived in front of me, he stood stock-still and silent, looking down that hooked nose, his hand outstretched, palm up for me to take. His face was emotionless, stiff, but his ebony eyes glistened. I graciously accepted the proffered hand and was formally led to the dance floor. Turning to face me, I was gathered gently into his arms, and we gracefully began to move to the music. Other dancers shifted out of the way to watch as we expertly covered the floor. I became lost at his touch and enjoyed the way our bodies moved together. I didn't want it to end, and when the orchestra finally stopped, it was difficult to break apart. For a moment, I thought that he might claim the second dance right away as neither of us made to move, but he slowly released my hand, backed away, and wordlessly stalked back to his spot by the wall. I returned to the refreshment table and sat on one of the spindly chairs that looked like they could never hold anything. A few witches eyed me with amusement, my blush taking over my cheeks.

As I sat, I began to consider the earlier conversation with Master Trevedi. My mind began to run with an idea to the point that I could no longer keep still.

_Severus,_ I called, slowly rising from the seat. _I have to go talk to someone. I'll be back in a bit._

He was across the room barely tolerating an old Master who was regaling his life story, but his eyes narrowed at my message. _Where are you going?_

_Remember that little girl I told you about?_ He nodded almost imperceptibly. _I have an idea and want to speak with Colin._

_Be very careful, _he cautioned as I skirted the group, moving along the wall, indiscernibly heading for the door. _Muggles are being used for sport these days_.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when I reached Colin and Emily's. I was hoping that they'd still be up, and I was right. Climbing the steps to the front door, I could see Colin stretched out on the sofa watching television. Emily was wrapping presents on the kitchen table, and a massive, beautifully decorated Christmas tree dominated the front room. I knocked lightly and, within a moment, a surprised brunette opened the door.

"Daniella? Is everything alright?" Emily asked as she pulled me in out of the cold. "Wow! Some outfit! Where were you?" she added as my cloak slipped open slightly.

"It's Yule." I beamed at my friend. "I can't stay long, but need to speak with Colin."

At the sound of Emily speaking with me, Colin rounded the corner, a concerned look on his face.

"I have an idea," I stated excitedly. "But, need to know if St. Mary's carries the inhibitor for lymph node cancer." He nodded, looking curious. "Do you think we can get into Sara's room tonight…unseen?"

Colin was suddenly very alert. "You've come up with an idea?"

"Possibly, but I'm not certain if it will work, but it won't injure her if it doesn't," I responded eagerly. "Well?"

"Half an hour? Right before shift change. I'll meet you there," he replied as he reached for his coat.

I smiled as I opened the door and backed out. "Half an hour."

Back at the celebration, Severus anxiously waited for my return. I managed to enter the foyer unseen and hid near the private chamber under the polished marble stairs.

_I'm back_, I called. _Are you ready to leave?_

_More than ready, _was his curt reply. _Meet you at the sleigh_.

When I saw him stride past, cloak billowing with each step, I summoned Pinky to convey an apology to Chairwizard Castwell. I wasn't feeling well and had gone home. Following Severus' path to the vacant landing area, I watched as he attached the Thestral to the sleigh.

"We won't need that just yet," I explained. "I could use your help…if you're willing."

"What's going on?" He stopped his action, brow furrowing.

"I'm going to try to perform a miracle tonight and may need your assistance."

"That Muggle girl? You're taking a huge risk." Severus frowned.

"I can't stand to think that this family may lose a second child when I have the ability to stop it," I explained.

"You're far too altruistic. Who's to say it will actually work? It may not, and then you've expended your energy for nothing."

"But, it may work, and it could save a child's life. A child, Severus. Think," I pleaded.

He stood tall, pulling his cloak tightly around him; thin lips pressed together, eyes narrowing. "Side-Along Apparition. I have no idea where we're going."

"I do," I beamed.

Under our special Disillusionment Charms, Severus and I entered the quiet hospital and rode the elevator to the Juvenile Oncology ward. It was quarter to twelve, and the night nurse was doing her last rounds, getting ready for the shift change. Colin was standing at the nurse's station pretending to review a chart, but covertly glancing at the clock on the wall. Seveus and I slipped past him and into Sara's room. Casting a ward on the door to bar everyone but Colin, I turned toward the bed. Severus was standing over the child, a mixed look of emotions on his face.

"Circe and Merlin, Severus, if she wakes up with you looming over her like that, it would scare her to death," I quietly chastised, and he took an abrupt step back. "I'm sorry," I apologized more gently. "That sounded cruel." Pausing for a moment, I inhaled slowly. "Like it or not, I think this is one place where you need to remove that charm."

Severus was silent, the internal battle of what to do obviously showing in his stillness. As I placed symbols of the elements at each quadrant, and lit the candle on a narrow shelf above Sara's head, he stepped back against the wall by the door, giving me space. Within a few minutes, Colin pushed the door open and let it ease shut behind him. It sealed automatically.

"I never saw you come in. How long have you been here?" he whispered.

"Not long. I was just getting set up, but didn't want to start without you."

"Although it would have been more prudent," Severus' mellow voice filtered from the dark corner.

Colin spun at the sound to view a towering, imposing wizard behind him. He shifted his head back and forth between us. "Stavros?" He pointed at Severus but was looking at me for verification.

I smiled and nodded as Severus stepped into the candlelight, his charm was gone, his hair pulled back into a low ponytail. His features were still hard, the years of wearing the charm having taken its toll, but they were somewhat softened, and the yellow teeth and enlarged nose were back to normal. My heart skipped at the sight. Severus uncharacteristically extended his hand to Colin in greeting, and Colin took it warily, but soon smiled.

"How much time do you need?" he asked looking at the objects that I had placed.

"I'm not sure. How much time do we have?" I retorted.

"_Take_ the time you need," Severus firmly interjected, standing by the door. "You've come this far. I'll stand guard." He pulled his wand from his coat sleeve to Colin's widening eyes.

Colin, then, came to stand beside me, offering the vial of lymph node inhibitor and a syringe. Casting _Petrificus Totalus_ on the child to ensure that she didn't move or wake, I cast the Chemical Balancing Spell on the solution and injected it into the affected area. As I began the ritual, Severus firmly took hold of Colin's shoulder and backed him away from the bed as the circle was cast. Calling on the guardians and deities for guidance and assistance, a healing blue aura formed around the bed, the child, and me. With my hands placed on Sara's forehead, stroking outward and shaking away the illness, I repeated the motion until a connection was made. I, then, entered her semi-consciousness in the hunt for the malignant form. Her eyes fluttered open for a split second, then she drifted off again. Eventually localizing the tumour and focusing every particle of energy I had to rid the cancerous growth, I chanted quietly to the powers that were with me. It was my hope that the combination of the formula, the spell, and the spiritual assistance would produce the miracle needed for this child's survival.

I don't know how much time had passed before finally slumping onto the edge of the bed. Realizing that I had reached my limit, I thanked the deities and guardians and released the circle. With the last acknowledgement, my knees buckled, and I began to fall. Severus' strong arms caught me before I hit the floor, and I was half carried to a metal chair against the wall. Severus cast _Finite Incantatum _on the child, and Colin was quickly at her side making his examination. Resting for a few moments, I listened as Severus and Colin spoke quietly from the foot of the bed. Colin was being his sociable self, and Severus was making an obvious effort to be genial. It was nice to hear. Finally stirring, both men were at my side. Feebly, I asked how Sara was and explained that the procedure may act slowly, if at all. Colin promised to keep an eye on her over the next few days, and Severus helped me to my feet.

"You obviously trust him," Severus spoke quietly as I leaned on his arm.

"With my life." I smiled at my friend as he puffed his chest with pride.

"Then, we'll Disapparate from here," Severus stated, his eyes fixed on Colin.

"Take care of her," my friend said as he watched Severus steady me.

Severus nodded briefly. "Are you ready?" he asked, his arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders.

"Don't forget your charm," I reminded him. "I'll be in touch," I weakly told to Colin.

"Christmas dinner?" he smiled. "You know you're always welcome. Same time as always. You too, Stavros," Colin invited.

We both tipped our heads in acknowledgment and asked Colin to turn around while Severus re-cast his charm. Within a blink, we Disapparated from the hospital room.

Christmas morning shone brightly through the long window that overlooked the backwater. Sunbeams glittered beautifully off the frozen lake making yellow and white streaks across the dark, wooden floor of the living room. The bedroom door was half open, and the light filtered into the darkness. Stirring and stretching, I rolled toward the warm mass by my side.

"Good morning," I murmured curling into the warmth. "Happy Christmas."

"It most certainly is," was the reply as a coarse hand stroke up my arm and wrapped around my back, pulling me closer.

"Are you ready to get up yet?" I smiled, nuzzling the spread of fine, dark, chest hair.

"Haven't I already been "up"? Several times?" he smirked in reply. "By the way, that "present" you gave me last night was most …intriguing." He fingered what was left of the green and silver ribbon affixed to the bedposts.

"Thought you'd enjoy that." I grinned mischievously.

The smell of bacon followed the streaks of light, and Severus' nose hungrily twitched at the scent. Kissing my forehead, he tossed back the thick, black duvet and climbed out of bed, padding barefoot to the bathroom. I rolled onto my stomach into the vacant spot and watched his firm buttocks and strong back retreat. When he emerged, he pulled on his boxers while I scooted past him to take my turn. When I came out, he was dressed, except for his frock coat, sitting at the dining table, pouring tea. I pulled on my customary black jeans and a green turtle neck jumper and joined him. The miniature Christmas tree that served as a table centrepiece had been pushed toward the window and a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and crumpets was served. Pinky was nowhere to be seen, leaving us to our privacy, but Stark pecked at the frosty window to be let in. I rose to accommodate my friend, and Severus tore off a few pieces of crumpet and dipped them in the bacon grease, putting them on a plate on a side table for the raven.

It was a quiet meal. The past few days had been difficult ones, and now, we enjoyed the solitude of my chamber. On the night of Yule, Severus had practically carried me back to the castle from the Thestral paddock, and I had slept well into the following day. My powers were depleted, and he scolded me for allowing it to happen.

"We're fighting a war," he had argued. "You can't do things like this."

I stayed inactive, and by the day of Christmas Eve, I was feeling much better. That evening, as we were making a final check on the Potter boy and Miss Granger, Phineas Nigellus sauntered back into his portrait after days of listening to the duo. He had new information. They had taken Polyjuice and were presently on their way to Godric's Hollow, something about visiting Bathilda Bagshot and feeling the need to be "home". Severus had rolled his eyes with exasperation, but I understood that need. However, Godric's Hollow was infested with Voldemort's vermin. Severus couldn't go without risking his position, so I bundled up against the cold and ventured out to keep an eye on them. By the time I got there, a battle had ensued inside Miss Bagshot's home, and I discovered exactly where Nagini had been. Potter had been injured, his wand broken, his ego hurt. He and Miss Granger had quickly Disapparated from the Hollow, and I returned to a concerned husband.

In the Headmaster's office, we used the pendulum to confirm their position, and not wanting me to expend any more energy, Severus bade me to wait for him in my chambers while he Apparated to their hideout to confirm their safety. It was a long night, but when he finally entered my living room with news that all was fine…for now, I sealed the door, stoked the fire, and held on to my love for dear life.

When breakfast was over, we moved to the long sofa by the fire to open presents. I handed him a long box wrapped in silver paper with a green bow, and he took it hesitantly.

"Do you realize that we've never spent a Christmas together?" He fingered the ribbon.

"I'm well aware of that." I grinned. "I hope you like it." I tipped my head toward the gift.

He smiled and tore off the paper like a small child. Lifting the lid, he exposed a pair of black dragon hide gloves. Pulling them on, they magically adjusted to fit. "Perfect," he grinned.

After a few other presents: a blue angora scarf for me, a quill set for him, a Pavarotti CD for me (granted, I couldn't use it here, but I could outside the grounds), and a black cashmere sweater for him, Severus produced a final gift, _Accio_'ing it from his frockcoat pocket. It was a small, metal box, unwrapped, but embossed with an unusual, red, equal-armed cross. He handed it to me, and I could feel the tension rise within him. Sliding the lid off, I removed the thin, felt covering. Snapped into a holding case was an odd looking pendant. My expression showed my confusion, and Severus explained.

"It's a key," he began steadily. It was the strangest looking key that I'd ever seen. It looked like a Christian cross with the red, equal-armed insignia where the bars met, and small, unevenly spaced holes along the front of the longest bar. "It opens a safety deposit box at the International Bank of Madrid. Ever since I began work here at Hogwarts, I have hidden part of my earnings from prying eyes. I never required much. Hogwarts satisfied my basic needs. When we began to frequent Spain, I looked into the probability of filtering my assets through a Muggle bank. Everything worth anything, that I have, is there. Should something happen to me; this key will get you past security and into the box. The box contains a few items and an account number. You still have your Muggle identification?" I nodded in disbelief. "That's all they'll need for the final verification to access the account. I have already provided them with your signature." I tried to speak, but my throat constricted. Severus held his fingers to my lips. "You know as well as I that anything can happen. I have far too many enemies, and the battle has yet to peak. Take it. Keep it safe. If I get through this alive, we'll disappear and have money to live on. If I don't, all I have is yours."

Tears were rolling down my cheeks by now, and I wrapped my arms around my husband in a loving and terrified embrace. I knew he was right, but I really didn't want to deal with it today. The song that had haunted me for days returned as I lay there.

"_No more lives torn apart that wars would never start, and time would heal all hearts._

_Everyone would have a friend, and right would always win, and love would never end._

_This is my grown up Christmas list."_

A/N – This is one of my favourite Christmas songs, and the best version that I have heard is from Amy Grant – Home for the Holidays. I find her voice pure and straightforward, no warbling off-key or adding notes that were not intended in the original writing. When I first started thinking of this chapter, this song kept going over and over in my head.


	60. Chapt 59 United We Stand

**59 – United We Stand**

The Dark Mark seared its summons into the veins of those it called. Amycus and Alecto Carrow visibly winced, Alecto squeezing her left fist shut as if to block out the pain, turkey-stuffing falling from her gaping mouth as she gasped. Amycus glowered in annoyance, his meal being interrupted, as Severus stiffened at the head of the table. There would be three less at the Christmas luncheon in a few moments. Professor McGonagall's head rose from her plate while Poppy and Professor Slughorn stopped their conversation to gaze at the trio. The few other teachers present paused whatever they were doing, furtively glancing toward the Headmaster. The chattering students were oblivious to the scene about to unfold, but I could feel the tension mount from the adults in attendance. Severus rose sharply pushing his chair back and folding his napkin neatly beside the half empty plate. The two minions followed suit, while everyone now looked on.

"Going somewhere?" Professor McGonagall tersely inquired, her eyes piercing, her lips tight.

Severus' response was a glare that would have frosted the warmest heart. Jerking his head toward the others, he silently signalled that they proceed. Then, chancing a brief glance at me, he sent, _This may take a while. Go to Colin's, if you like_.

My entire body became rigid in fear. _Be careful_, I returned.

The glasses clinked, and laughter rose above the crowded table. Extended family as well as several friends had joined Emily and Colin on this joyous occasion. The younger children were set in the archway between the dining room and the living room with a miniature version of the main table replicated to their delight. Party crackers and paper crowns had been broken open, and the meal was winding down. This was a true family Christmas, and Emily had outdone herself with the preparations. It was fabulous. Once pudding had been served, the children were dismissed to play while the adults leaned back, resting in their seats, some of the men loosening their belts, all of us laughing at the amount of food that we had consumed. Coffee was served, and the conversations began in clusters.

Colin shook his head. "Too bad Stavros couldn't make it," he aimed at me. "He seemed nice."

I struggled not to snort at the comment. "Nice" was not a word usually associated with my husband. It was funny to think that Colin genuinely thought so.

"Regrettably, he had to work tonight," I replied.

"Colin was quite impressed with him when he came back from…um…seeing you guys last," Emily stumbled as she noticed others following the conversation. "What does he do anyway?"

My mind rapidly processed possible answers. I could say that he's a teacher, but then why would he have to work on Christmas day? I could say that he's Headmaster of a school, but the same questions would arise. "He's a scientist," I finally announced. _Well, he is a Potions Master,_ I justified to myself. "His boss called this afternoon demanding his attention."

"On Christmas?" one of the relatives chided. "How unfair. It couldn't wait a day?"

"If he's in the same business as Daniella, time is usually of the essence," Colin pointed out with a grin. "Daniella tends to save lives." He was beaming now. I gazed at him curiously, and he quickly winked in return.

As the men shifted from the dining room to the living room, the women began to clear the table. The kitchen was too small to hold everyone, so I persuaded Emily to shoo them out so that we could work more efficiently. Colin stepped into the doorway to see if he could lend a hand, and I had him stand guard as I swung my arm over Emily's shoulders.

"My Christmas gift to you." I grinned as I swept my hand cross the kitchen: dirty plates, pots, roasters and all. "_Scourigify_. Now, where does it all go?" I asked a wide-eyed friend. She pointed and instructed, and with a flick of a wrist and a point of a wand, the dishes were put away in less time than she could imagine.

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, she wiggled her fingers in the air and commented amusedly, "You _really_ have to teach me that."

We bid Colin to turn around. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "I have a workroom that needs a bit of help. Care to have a look?" he laughed, gently pushing me down the hall and into a spare room. Emily nodded knowingly.

"It worked," Colin could barely hold it in any longer as he shut the door. "It's being called a "Christmas miracle". It took a while, like you said." He shook his head in disbelief. "But when Sara woke up early this morning, she walked out of her room and into the corridor. The attending nurse was flabbergasted and immediately called for the doctor on duty. Sara described a blue light and said that an angel had stroked her forehead and that she had fallen back to sleep. Her headaches are gone, and she's responding in ways that she hasn't in months. The doctor called me, and tests were run. The tumour is gone. Completely gone. Like it had never been there. Geez, Daniella. That's incredible." His grin beamed from ear to ear, his excitement overflowing.

I smiled, pleased that it had been successful. "As I said before, magic has its limitations. This was a combination of several things. We were lucky, but I'm so glad it worked." I reached out to touch his arm.

"I know it took a lot out of you to do it, and I'm very grateful. Did it take you long to recover?" Colin asked with concern.

"Let's just say, I got to stay in bed for a while and be pampered." I wagged my eyebrows at my friend.

He laughed heartily and swung his arm over my shoulder, opening the door, and leading me back to the living room and the other guests.

The pendulum swung over the map that was laid out on the desk of the Headmaster's office, and we watched as it circled and pointed to yet another location. The Dark Lord had been furious with his loss of the Potter boy on Christmas Eve and had summoned all of his followers on Christmas Day, punishing several publicly for their lack of vigilance. There would be no more errors. Potter had been careless, and this time, he had been left injured and wandless. With this, he was pleased, but more would suffer if mistakes occurred again. Severus took mental note of the first location on the map, and we began the pendulum again with a second question. Again, it rocked, circled, and then pointed to a location on the other side of the map. We shook our heads. We would have to split up for this one.

Young Mr. Weasly had not returned home as we had suspected when he left his friends several weeks ago, but had gone to his brother Bill's, near the village of Tinworth. I had been watching Arthur's son for a few days, his irritation and impatience growing in leaps and bounds. He desperately wanted to find his friends, but because of their constant movement, he had been unsuccessful. It was time he got a little help.

Inside his ground floor room of the quaint, seaside cottage, young Weasley sat on the bed looking solemn and fidgeting with an object that appeared to be a small lighter. I secretly stood outside the small, paned window, watching, having circumvented the Protective wards set on the house and grounds. Sending small empathic impulses that called his name, trying to draw his attention toward my direction, he finally responded. He stopped fidgeting, looking curiously at the object in his hand as if the sound came from it. Opening it and flicking the top, he brought it to his ear as if to listen. I snorted lightly and rolled my eyes. How had this boy lasted so long without injuring himself? I cast a blue ball of energy outside the window in a last ditch effort to get him to look my way, and as I did, he flicked the lid of the object again, and the room lights went out. Finally noticing the glow, he curiously shifted his gaze between the lighter and the light. His mind was so simple to read, and I chuckled at the coincidence.

_Follow me_, I sent. _I'll take you where you want to go_.

The boy leapt to his feet, shoving all he could into his rucksack and pulling on his coat. Racing through the kitchen, he quickly bid his brother and sister-in-law "good-bye" and ran into the garden.

_It's about time_, I thought to myself.

Dodging around the corner of the shed and under cover of a Disillusionment Charm, I let the ball of energy hover in the yard, waiting for him to follow. When he rounded the corner of the small shack, I focused on the last known location of the Potter boy and Miss Granger, pushed the ball of light into the boy's chest, sending him on his way. I followed to make sure that he'd be all right.

How this boy ever got on in life was beyond me! He bumbled through the woods, calling loudly, making such a racket that I'm surprised that he and his friends had managed to stay alive this long. However, Potter and the girl were nowhere to be found. Their protections were very strong, and it was possible that they had already have moved on. Young Weasley waited patiently, huddled on a nearby hill, staring at a spot that probably held their last camp. It was early evening, and the sun was just beginning to set. I could tell that this was a blow to the boy, and he didn't know what to do next.

Quickly Apparating back to the castle, I raced to the Administration Tower and burst into Severus' office. Severus sat behind his desk, hands folded across his stomach, staring into space, thinking. I startled him, and he grabbed for his wand.

"Bloody Merlin's balls, woman! Don't ever do that!" he spat as he resettled himself.

"Sorry. Need to move fast," I puffed, striding to the corner that held the rolled map. Bringing it to the desk, we unrolled it, and I held the pendulum above it. "Gracious Goddess, we're so close. Where has Harry Potter gone?" I asked.

The pendulum swung and circled over a small forest in southern England. The area contained several lakes and ponds and was set up like a Muggle campground.

"Where is Ronald Weasley?" I asked again, and the stone swung to where I had left him. "Good," I muttered. Turning to Severus, I instructed, "This is it. Young Weasley has been searching for his friends. We arrived too late to meet them today. They've moved again. Did you get the sword?" Severus nodded. "The boy has to find it himself, right?" My partner inclined his head again. "This is the perfect time and place, especially after what happened on Christmas Eve. This is where the Potter boy and Miss Granger are at the moment." I pointed to a spot on the map. "It's getting late. I seriously doubt they'll move tonight unless they feel threatened."

"I'll go to them, hide the sword, and lure Potter to find it. You get Weasley and bring him there. I loathe to admit it, but they need each other, and we're wasting far too much time. They're stronger as a team. Try not to Apparate directly to my location when you bring Weasley. We don't need him relaying how they got help."

"I'm better than that," I replied with irritation. "But, I'll have to use your empathic signal to locate you afterwards."

Severus nodded.

I found young Weasley wandering the area where I had left him, feeling utterly hopeless, fingering the lighter once again.

_Well, if it worked once,_ I thought, and as he flicked the lid, and his eyes scrunched in concentration, I cast another ball of energy that floated to his chest. He looked at it with relief and dramatically spread his arms to the sides, his chin lifted in acceptance of the power. Once the ball made contact, I linked onto Severus and Apparated to the forest where the Potter boy was, careful not to land too close to my partner. Keeping the ball of energy focused, I led Weasley in the other direction, not too far, but far enough to let Severus do his part. I could tell that he was on the move. He must have been hiding the sword.

The darkness was thick. No stars shone in the black void to shed light for our eyes to adjust. Only the bluish ball of energy glowed, and young Weasley was getting tired of traipsing aimlessly after it.

_Are you done yet?_ I impatiently sent to Severus.

There was a pause, and then a reply. _Potter is following my Patronus_. _I've hidden the sword in the lake. _

With that, I had my blue ball turn, and a white glow emerged to the right. Young Weasley saw it, recognized the shimmer, and bolted through the forest, blindly crashing through the trees until he reached the boundary. By this time, I had joined Severus at the base of two oak trees, and we watched as Weasley ran to the edge of the lake and dove into the frigid water. Severus' forehead was creased with concern, a Doe Patronus grazed by the edge of the wood.

"Where's Potter?" I asked, scanning the area.

"In the lake," Severus hoarsely whispered. "He's been down there far too long."

Arthur's son surfaced with a splash, his best friend supported by his arm, half naked and gasping as if being strangled. The redheaded boy hauled his friend to shore and ripped something from his neck, throwing it to the ground, then dove back into the icy lake. Emerging a second time, he held a gilded, gem-encrusted sword in his hand. The boys' reunion was touching, but I could almost hear Severus' teeth grind.

"That locket almost killed him," he muttered. "It reacted to the sword. Gods, get on with it," he whispered to himself as he watched the duo. "Pierce the horcrux."

The boys shivered and argued until Potter finally convinced Weasley to take the honour of destroying the artefact. After much taunting from imaginary images, Weasley finally sealed his courage and stabbed the locket.

Both Severus and I let out an audible sigh of relief as the artefact screamed in its last moment, and it drew the attention on the boys. They cautiously headed in our direction, and it was with a quick motion that I grabbed Severus and Apparated us to the hill where I had landed with young Weasley. As we stood there, the boys sauntered into the clearing, and the Protective Shield around the hideout vanished. I was surprised to find that we had appeared in such close proximity to it.

Hidden by the trees, Severus took hold of my arm, beginning to lead me away when we heard a shriek from the tent. We startled and stopped to listen. Miss Granger was raving mad, ranting furiously at the new arrival, and as dangerous as it was to stay, Severus changed course and pulled me a bit closer in order to eavesdrop. I think this was the first time in a long time that I had seen him truly amused. His lips pressed together withholding his laughter as we listened to Miss Granger's wrath. It was going to take her quite some time to calm down. Finally touching Severus' sleeve, drawing his attention, we eased back up the hill. As we prepared to Disapparate, I voiced one question that I could no longer hold back.

"A Doe Patronus?" I grinned. Something so delicate was not what I expected from such a harsh man.

Severus' smile dropped, and he scowled, turning his head away.

"Sorry," I apologized for ruining his good humour. "Gods, what was Potter thinking?" I continued. "Does he have the brains of a Bowtrickle? Being lured like that. It could have been anyone."

"He trusted it. You're an empath. Could you not feel his need to follow it?" Severus' words were hard.

"I was focusing on the other boy. How did you know he'd follow your Patronus? He hates you. He doesn't trust you. Why would he trust your Patronus?"

Severus kept his head turned, refusing to look me in the face. I stepped around him to force a confrontation. "Look at me," I demanded. He lowered his eyes to mine, _Occlumency_ in full force, his eyes deep, empty pools as dark as the night around us. "Do I have to force it out of you?"

Severus snorted derisively. "You're talking to a man who has faced _Crucio_ numerous times. I'm in league with the Dark Lord. You could not "force" anything from me."

"And, you're talking to the woman who cared enough to create a potion to ease the pain of _Crucio_, who has stood by you when everyone else turned against you, even when you pushed me away."

He lowered his head again and our eyes met, only this time a flash of green flickered behind his lids before he looked away. I inhaled sharply. The empathic impression was so intense: the loss, the pain, the guilt, Lily.

"Severus." I reached gently to the edge of his cloak. "I've always known there was someone else. I'd be a fool to think you cared for no one but me, but it was something you buried deep within. It was painful, so I left it alone."

"Then leave it alone now," he replied venomously as he brushed me off and strode forward, Disapparating abruptly, leaving me standing alone in the darkness of the forest.

The days passed endlessly. Severus had barred his office and clearly avoided me. Students returned from holidays and were met with a foul-tempered, malicious Headmaster and new rules. No one was safe from his mood, and it filtered like a noxious gas through the corridors. I tried to concentrate on the new modifications of the potion, but had difficulty keeping my mind on track. Even the most recent trip to St. Mungo's did little to lift my spirits. Things were strangely stagnant. I desperately wanted to speak with Severus, but he had locked me out, both physically and mentally. Stark had flown to his chambers and was reluctantly admitted; relaying back to me later how much turmoil his Master seemed to be in. I suggested that Stark stay with him for as long as he was needed. He seemed to calm Severus once before, and I hoped that it would work again. There was something unbearable that Severus obviously couldn't face, or couldn't admit to me.

The sound of shattering glass didn't have the appeal that I thought it would, but the liquid that had splattered on the far wall left an interesting pattern that looked rather like a large bat in flight, until, of course, it started to ooze down the stone and onto the floor. I sighed, casting _Scourgify_ and _Reparo, _levitating the beaker back into my hand.

"Bad mood." The voice startled me, and I spun to meet the intruder.

"I didn't hear you come in," I sputtered.

"Obviously." A depraved grin spread across the twisted face.

"This lab is off limits to staff. How did you get past the wards?" I asked, cautiously stepping backward toward my chamber door, instinctively, silently, casting _Protego_ over the workstation and myself.

"What wards? None were set." The menace leered and stepped closer.

_Had I forgotten? _"Is there something you want?" I eased back, openly showing that my hands were empty.

The left side of his mouth sneered, and an evil glint shone in his eyes. He rubbed his crotch and leisurely drew his wand. "Nothin' a little _Imperio_ can't satisfy. I see you've got no wand. Foolish. 'Specially knowin' who's in this castle."

As he raised the wand to cast, my projective hand flashed forward. _"Expelliarmus", _and the wooden rod sailed across the room, sending the antagonist stumbling backward. "Get out!" I demanded ferociously as the unarmed man clumsily lunged in my direction. _"Tarantallegra,_" I called, dodging the dancing legs and summoning his wand.

"Wandless. Should 'ave remembered the way you knocked Snape on 'is arse," he cursed himself. "You'll regret this, missy." He awkwardly moved toward the door, skirting the heavy worktable. "My wand," he obstinately held his hand out.

"You must be joking?" I snorted, keeping the weapon in firm grip. _"Finite Incantatem,"_ was mercifully cast to stop the ridiculous Charleston. "I suggest you leave Mr. Carrow."

Before I could react, he flew across the room, rebounding off my shield, and stumbling backward. I fell hard against the wall, winded and surprised, dropping the wand that he silently retrieved. Spinning to the right to avoid _Impedimenta_, I ducked behind my experiment. Strengthening my shield, I rose to the fight. _Stupify_ missed its mark as Carrow ducked behind a storage cupboard casting _Relashio _in return_._ My notebook on the workstation caught fire with the spell, and I jumped to extinguish the flames. My research! _Imperio_ harmlessly bounced off my shield as I angrily cast _Respingere,_ violently pushing the attacker away from my work. As he raised his wand to cast again, the lab door crashed open, and Carrow was sent flying with an unspoken spell, his wand flying from his hand, through the air, and into my reach. My head spun to view a fuming Severus in the archway, his curtain of black, greasy hair obscuring his eyes, his wand raised in my defence. In three paces, he had Carrow pinned to the wall, his strong arm across his throat.

"You've been warned," Severus seethed into the man's gnarled face.

With a hard shove to emphasis his point, Carrow cracked his head against the wall and slid to the floor. Severus summoned Carrow's wand from my hand, tossed it to the dazed man as he rose, ordering him out of the lab. Carrow's head dropped as he scurried past the Headmaster. The lab door closed, and I could feel the wards instantly cast and secure. Severus stood with his back to me, breathing heavily, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"How did you know?" I quietly asked.

A slight shiver could be seen ride across his shoulders as he straightened and turned. He flipped the hair from his face and pointed to his heart. "I felt it. Here." He gazed at me intently. "Like in Tuscany, when our home was attacked." I could see him swallow hard. We were silent for a moment, watching each other. "The Patronus was Lily's," he finally uttered. "She was my best friend. I loved her deeply, but that love was never reciprocated, not in the way that I would have liked. And, in the end, I destroyed that friendship with my …association with those she disapproved of. When _we_ met, in sixth-year, Lily and I had had a falling out. I was cold and foolish, letting others dictate my actions and behaviour." He snorted. "I guess it was to become a pattern. But, I never stopped caring for her. Even now, she's a part of me." He shook his head. "There is much you don't know. You were here for such a short time. Albus saw what was happening and tried to entice me to his side, but I was already in with Malfoy and his crew. I tried to play both sides. Albus had every right to mistrust me. I did things. Things I can't change. Things that will haunt me until the day I die." His shoulders began to slump, and his eyes drifted down. "Lily is dead because of me, because of my recklessness. Albus had a plan, but I didn't follow it. I tried to save her, but…" he couldn't continue.

I didn't know what to do. My heart wrenched to the point where it hurt. I knew the depth of emotion required to reproduce or adopt someone else's Patronus. Drawing my fist to my chest as Severus did the same, the dual thump reverberated off the walls of the small lab. He looked up, the sound drawing his attention. He knew what that sound meant. It was something he hadn't shared with her. Tentatively, taking a step closer, I crossed the imaginary line that separated us and drew my husband into a compassionate hug. His arms wrapped around me in crushing force, clinging for dear life as his nose burrowed into the crook of my neck.

"I love you, Daniella. Never doubt that. We have a bond that I cherish and would die to protect, but she was…" He stopped, the words choking in his throat.

"Your first love," I finished sympathetically, and although there was a profound ache in my heart, I whispered soothingly, "It's all right. I understand."


	61. Chapt 60 Oh, The Tangled Webs We Weave

**60 – Oh, The Tangled Webs We Weave**

The antechamber behind the High Table in the Great Hall was dark, illuminated only by a torch on either side of the entrance and a large fire on the hearth on the opposite side of the room. Severus sat in a throne-like, padded chair, almost completely obscured by the high back and heavy arms. His back was to the door. Amycus Carrow stood before him; his back to the fire; arms hanging limply by his sides; chin jutting out defiantly.

"Do you realize the damage that you have caused?" Severus' voice was calm but threatening. "It has taken months to have Mistress Di Marco feel…comfortable…here. Do not be fooled by her personable demeanour. Although, usually a sign of weakness, in her, it is merely a cover to an inner strength that few understand. She is stronger than you think. Or, have you discovered that already?" Severus voice sneered contemptuously at his subordinate. "The Dark Lord will be most displeased to find that your lustful intentions toward our guest has caused a hindrance in our plan. Her work is nearly done. She wants to leave. The Dark Lord does not want this potion to come to fruition. Not to the extent that she is capable. We cannot have certain individuals regaining their memories or becoming active again."

"The wards were down," Carrow explained. "She's a right fine piece of meat. It's hard to refuse such an opportunity."

"Just what was your objective?" Severus' right hand contracted against the arm of the chair. Then, he raised it to stop the explanation. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. I have assured her that I would deal with the situation. She is somewhat naïve in thinking that since we are both Potions Masters and share a common oath, she can trust me to some degree. However, if you ever go near her again, I will not hesitate to inform our Lord and let him deal with the situation himself. He wants her alive and would be far less tolerant of your objectives than I."

"Surely ya can't be blind to her charms. What kind of man are ya?" Carrow audaciously ventured.

Severus' fingers twitched, and his wand suddenly appeared in his hand, aimed directly at Carrow's heart. "I'm the kind of man who would have no difficulty eliminating you from the face of this earth should you interfere with the Dark Lord's plan again. Do I make myself clear?" Severus hissed.

"Clear," Carrow muttered as he was dismissed and shuffled up the stairs to the exit.

Hearing the door close, I could see Severus' hand rise to his unseen forehead as he rested in the seat. A slow and deliberate breath was expelled as the tension released. Severus refused to have the Carrows "pollute" the Headmaster's office and often met with them here. The wards around the antechamber remained down, unknown to the DADA professor, and the glass in the large mirror by the door fogged as the images faded from the scrying dish on the polished dining table of my quarters. My partner had allowed the voices to filter through so I could hear. Leaning back in the seat, I released a similar sigh of relief.

A heavy rain lashed the long window that overlooked the backwater, melting the mid-winter snow. The thick, black living room curtain had been drawn open, but the reflection of the room in the darkness outside cast a dreary mood in the warm chamber. Pinky busied herself cleaning out my wardrobe while Stark nested on the top of it, occasionally, and I'm quite certain, deliberately, dropping small twigs and nesting material over the edge onto the diminutive elf. He was bored and mischief was rising. Pinky scolded him gently, but I could tell that she was losing patience. I smiled while listening to the banter between the two. I didn't think that house elves had the ability to empathically connect with others, but it certainly sounded like it. She would scold. He would caw. It was like listening to two young children bicker. Finally, Pinky emerged from the bedroom, a piece of cotton fluff atop her head, holding Albus' box.

"This was pushed way in the back, beneath some spare clothes. Does Mistress no longer need it?" she asked holding the box out for my inspection.

I took it from her and kindly brushed the stuffing from her head. "I would still like to keep it," I replied while lifting the lid, fingering through the contents. "I'd forgotten what was in here."

In past months, Severus and I had frequently used the pendulum, and the silver and glass vial still hung around my neck, but the other items seemed more like bits of memories rather than anything of importance. Lifting the star chart from the year that I was born, I examined the information on it: which planets were in line, which constellations were in the sky. I was never very good at Astronomy but understood some of the rudimentary concepts that applied to Alchemy. Replacing it, I peacefully sifted through the rest of the items.

Time passed in the dim light of the chamber, and I startled when the Floo ignited and Severus stepped into the room. He was soaked from head to foot and dripped heavily onto the carpet. Pinky ran to retrieve his cloak while Stark cawed as he flew to the bookcase by the hearth, greeting his Master. Severus looked drained of all energy, paler than usual, and I feared that he had tasted _Crucio_ tonight. Jumping to his aid, I eased him into the armchair closest to the fire, and bid Pinky to get the potion.

He raised his hand to stop her. "No need. I'm just exhausted," he replied sinking into the softness.

"What's happening?" I asked, warming a blanket, and laying it across his shoulders.

"The Dark Lord is on a personal mission. He's in search of something that has eluded him and has been away. I've been overseeing his followers. It's not an easy task, especially when everyone has their own agenda." Severus pulled the blanket tighter as he involuntarily shivered.

"Do you know what he's looking for?" I asked settling on a footstool opposite him.

"He searches for a wand to beat Potter." He stared into the fire.

"But, he knows that Potter's wand is broken," I stated with confusion.

Severus shrugged. "The wand he seeks has a violent history. Invincible, they say. The Elder Wand."

"I've never heard of it." I shook my head.

"Only those who know wand lore or have a specific interest in myth would know of it." Severus accepted a hot mug of soup from Pinky and sipped it carefully, leaning comfortably back in the seat. "It's miserable out. I Flooed to the office, and then came directly here. I hope you don't mind the intrusion." He gazed up through sopping hair.

"Never," I smiled.

The rain still pounded the sides of the castle in the early hours of morning. Severus had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and didn't move for the entire night. He shivered occasionally, and I pulled the covers over his shoulders and snuggled closer to warm him, but his breathing remained steady and deep. As a roll of thunder rumbled through the living room, he startled and raised himself onto his elbows, uncertain of where he was. When he saw me watching him from the cosy confines of the duvet, he smiled and snuggled in beside me, pulling me close.

"I've missed this," he whispered as our noses met, and his hand ran up my back.

"Me, too," was my quiet reply. And wrapped in each other's arms, with the storm raging outside, we dozed off again.

"Where did you put my pants?" Severus demanded as he rapidly buttoned the long line down the front of his shirt.

"Here," I said, handing him the folded trousers. As he hurriedly pulled them up, I shook out his frockcoat, ready for him to take. "You would think that one would find a spell to dress more rapidly," I commented as he hopped around the end of the bed trying to pull on a boot.

"You would think," he said sardonically. "By the way, how did you remove my clothes? I don't recall."

"Ah, a little spell I developed hoping to have better use for it than last night. It's Valentine's. Come back tonight, and I'll show you how it's supposed to work." I wagged my eyebrows playfully, loosening the front of my bathrobe.

His face was solemn as he eyed my cleavage. "I wish, but I can't make any plans at the moment. Things are happening that demand my attention." He paused and raised his eyes from my chest to my face. "And, I may need your assistance."

"Anything," I answered seriously, closing the robe.

"I'll have to let you know," he replied as he finished fastening the coat.

Morning bell rang for breakfast, and Severus dashed to the Floo. Ever since his chat with Carrow, he had been making it a point to attend meals more frequently, especially early in the morning. Last night, Carrow had been at the meeting, and Severus wanted to keep an eye on him.

Kissing me quickly and slipping a small package into my hand, he stepped into the fire and transported back to the Headmaster's office. His day would begin from there.

The deluge continued for the rest of the week, confining most to the castle and immediate grounds. The tensions that were already high manifested into small brawls and trivial duels between rival Houses. Teachers were short-tempered, and detentions were at a peak. Poppy was overloaded with hexes and minor curses and appreciated my assistance in the Hospital Wing. We were kept very busy, and just when we though things were settling down, another flurry of anxiety began.

Ministry officials stormed the grounds in search of the groundskeeper and several of his friends. Both students and staff were in an uproar as Severus strode through the halls, heading toward Hagrid's hut. Poppy and I watched from the Hospital Wing's large window, my heart in my throat. Severus had managed to impede the attack long enough for Hagrid to get away without his interference being blatantly obvious. We would need the half-giant's skill and knowledge of the forest and its creatures if the fight were to take place at Hogwarts as we suspected. I hoped he wouldn't go too far.

"Mistress Di Marco," Poppy called from the bedside of a fifth-year Ravenclaw. "Would you keep an eye on this one. I'll be right back." She quickly disappeared into her office at the end of the ward.

I pulled myself from the window and sauntered over to the bed. The student was covered in blistering pustules that popped every so often making the teen wince slightly.

"So, what does the other fellow look like?" I asked with a slight grin, and the boy pointed to the opposite side of the room and several beds down. There, a sixth-year Slytherin lay with a heavily swollen face and a pig's snout. "Nice work," I added, returning my attention to the Ravenclaw. "What started it?" I ducked a minor eruption from his face.

"He made a crack about someone in our House. Death Eaters boarded the Express at Christmas, and she was taken. No one's seen her since. It's been weeks. She was rather odd, but she was okay. He said it was "no loss". I couldn't let it go." He stared up at the ceiling, eyes brimming with angry tears.

I placed my hand comfortingly on his arm. No brilliant words of wisdom could ease the pain or fear that war brings.

As I sat there, the Hospital Wing doors crashed open, and Severus strode in, black robe billowing behind, fury on his face. He pointed to me as Poppy re-emerged from her office. "You were told not to involve yourself with the students. My office. Immediately," he barked.

"But, Sir," Poppy began in my defence. "I needed her help. There were so many." She turned to the half full chamber.

He stood, huffing like a madman, taking in the number of students who had managed to get themselves injured in trivial matters. "My office," he repeated firmly.

I rose, sending a reassuring empathic message to my friend, and followed the Headmaster from the ward. The students and teachers parted before him, eyeing me with pity. It was obvious that he was livid, and I was about to feel his wrath. Charging up the steps, past the stone gargoyle that guarded the office, the doors magically opened for him, and we entered to the chatter of the portraits. Severus paced to the desk, then spun to face me.

"This attack was just the first." He ran his right hand through his limp hair, breathing heavily. "The Ministry is on the hunt for anyone who openly supports Potter. That great oaf was foolish enough to hold a party in honour of the "Boy-Who-Would-Be-A-Pain-In-The-Arse." He shook his head. "Word is that the Weasleys are next. I can protect the girl while she's here, but Arthur needs to be alerted…today. It could happen at any time. Arthur knows that he's a target, but he remains at his home. They need to find someplace else…now."

"You want me to warn him," I stated professionally. "I could leave the castle on the assumption that I need to do something at St. Mungo's. I'll actually make an appearance, then divert to the Burrow with the warning."

Severus nodded, his arms folded across his chest. Pointing to the chairs by the fire, he said, "Let's plan this well."

The hill overlooking the Burrow had one lone tree, just as Severus had described, but the Weasley home was heavily warded with a variety of Protective Shields. Tapping into the elements, I could sense where the building was, and under a Disillusionment Charm, I blindly walked toward my destination. Once through the wards, the rickety, multilevel structure stood before me, looking exactly as it had been described. Carefully walking the path to the front door, I lowered my charm and knocked. Hearing voices suddenly hush, I knocked again.

"Arthur Weasley," I called, letting my Italian accent drift through the door. "You knew me once and kept my secret safe. I must repay a debt. You're in danger."

I could hear the shuffling of feet and whispering on the other side. "Identify yourself," a familiar voice returned.

"What name should I use? I've been known by a few," I answered.

"Answer this question for me?"

I smiled. I knew that voice well.

"What does a wolf do on a full moon?" the voice asked.

"The wolf banes," I replied with a huge grin.

The door flung open, and I was caught up in strong arms. Returning the hug, I was lifted off my feet and into the kitchen. Settled back onto the ground, I took an unsteady step back to look up at my old friend.

"Gods, it's good to see you," I exclaimed.

"And, you," Remus grinned. "You're taking a huge risk being here. We know Arthur and the family are in danger."

My smile dropped. "But, did you know when it would happen?" Turning to my old contact, I directed, "I hope you have a place to stay. Gather your family. You have to move now. There's not much time."

Arthur protectively placed his arm around his wife. "We've met before. With Remus. And, I've seen you at the Ministry. A few years ago. You're with the Italian Ministry? Wolfsbane. Right?" He looked between Remus and me. "What did you mean by "you knew me once"? What secret did I keep?"

I paused and glanced up at Remus. Casting my hand across my body, _"Finite Incantatem"_ dissolve the Vagueness Charm that had become a part of my daily routine.

Arthur gasped. "Impossible," he choked. "I was there. I carried your body…"

"You, James, Sirius, Remus and Alastor. Albus' words were few. The funeral service short. He had to get me out of there as quickly as possible."

"_What name should I use?_ Now, I understand. Alicia. Elizabett. Daniella. Are there any others?"

I smiled. "No. I think that's enough."

Arthur released his confused wife and took two paces to me. I met him in the middle of the kitchen in a heartfelt embrace.

"How? Why?" he stuttered clinging tight.

"It doesn't matter. It was necessary, but now we have to save you." I pulled back. "When darkness falls, we should be gone."

"Arthur?" His wife was at his side.

"Molly, this is…a friend. Many, many years ago, during the first war, she worked for Dumbledore." He turned to me. "You never stopped, did you?"

"For a little while. My injuries were severe, but as soon as I was well enough, I was back at it." No further details were forthcoming. We didn't have the time, nor did I have the inclination to revisit the past. "We have to get you moving. Pack what you need. Summon the boys. Your daughter is safe where she is at the moment."

"The boys should be arriving soon anyway. They were coming for dinner," Molly offered.

"Perfect," I smiled.

"What started this? Why now?" Molly asked curiously.

"The Ministry tried to capture Hagrid earlier today, something about a "Support Harry" party. Since you're so close to the boy, it was advised that you move as quickly as possible. You may be next."

Remus rolled his eyes. "As much as I admire the man, Hagrid's loyalty is bigger than his brain. We should have seen this coming. How did you get this information? Your bond?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"I've been at Hogwarts since September. I was helping Madam Pomfrey when the attack occurred. My resource delayed the attack, and suggested that you be warned. There's no time to waste."

While Arthur and Molly rapidly gathered their already packed belongings, and we waited for the twins to arrive, Remus and I were able to catch up. He was so excited about becoming a father and hoped that I would be able to meet Tonks soon. I was glad that things had worked out for him. He was such a sweet man and deserved to be happy.

It was late when I returned to the Headmaster's office, and Severus was sitting up waiting for me by a blazing fire.

"All went well?" he inquired, leaning forward in his seat, pouring a hot cup of tea, and passing it in my direction.

I nodded. "Arthur knows who I am. I released my charm."

"Hmm." He leaned back pensively. "I don't think it will be a problem. You're well-known as Mistress Di Marco, pride of the Italian Ministry's research department, not Alicia Lacosa, long time spy for Albus Dumbledore. You used you grandmother's name too, if I recall, and she was also well-known in various Ministries throughout Europe. If anyone casts _Legilimens_ on him, they'll immediately see the Ministry connection. There would be a legitimate reason for him to know you." He transfigured the large armchair into a sofa and moved over for me to sit. "Are you tired?" he asked with a slight quirk on his lips as I lowered beside him.

"Not too bad," I covered a yawn. "Why?" My left eyebrow rose curiously.

He stretched his right arm across the back of the sofa, fingers lightly caressing my shoulder. "I was just curious about that new spell of yours, and if you've used your Valentine gift." His ebony eyes sparkled.

"It was lovely. When did you have time to make it?" I asked oblivious of his intentions.

"Essential oils are relatively easy. I hope you like the scent." His arm reached across my shoulder pulling me close, his eyes beginning to smoulder.

I finally caught on. "Here? In the Headmaster's office? What about the audience?" I tipped my head toward the portraits that feigned sleep.

Severus shifted closer, his left hand running up my thigh. "So, they're not in this section of the room, and I could make the back of the sofa higher."

"My grandfather is one of those portraits," I embarrassedly whispered, barely moving my lips.

Severus flashed a rare smile. "I know." Pure mischief was in his eyes as his lips tenderly met mine.

The back was raised, and the seat lengthened to a double bed as we shifted horizontally on the soft mattress. Lying face to face on our sides, we grinned listening to the portraits mutter and move from frame to frame trying to get an unimpeded view.

"Can you see anything?" one quietly asked.

"Nothing," another whispered.

"Darn," muttered a third.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, give them some privacy," Dilys Derwent chastised quietly.

"Why?" Phineas Nigellus drawled. "This is the most excitement this office has seen in centuries."

"Shhhhh," was the collective response, but by this time Severus and I had blocked them out, his hand working up my spine drawing me close, his nose nuzzling the soft spot behind my ear, while I ran a line with the tip of my tongue from the underside of his stubbled jaw to a succulent earlobe, latching on until a low groan rattled from deep within him. Pulling my jumper slightly, he worked his hand up my ribs, finding a silk-covered breast to cup, fingertips running over the smooth fabric, enticing the nipple to rise. It responded satisfactorily, and Severus sighed in contentment as his eyes closed, and he massaged expertly. My hand ran from his strong back to his buttocks, pulling at the length of his coat in search of the waistband of his trousers. Lifting my right knee slightly, I added a bit of extra pressure to the bulge that was forcing against the strained material. He groaned, and I smiled.

"So, what's this spell of yours?" He lifted his head from my neck.

"Mmm, are you in a hurry?" I seductively asked, slowly unbuttoning the tiny frockcoat fastenings. "Sometimes the pleasure is in the anticipation."

He rolled onto his back gazing up at me as I straddled his hips, my hands spanning his pectoral muscles under the cloth. "And, sometimes the pleasure is found in direct contact." Reaching up, his hand slipped behind my neck, drawing my down. "I want to touch you, to feel your warmth, to smell your skin, to taste you…" He plunged into my mouth like a drowning man. I reciprocated.

Coming up for air, my own desire peaking, I placed my hand on his chest and took a deep, meaningful breath. _"Divesta Totalum,"_ was cast, and his clothes magically appeared in the air, folded themselves neatly, and landed on the nearby end table. The glint in my eye spurred him on as he cast the same spell on me. Both grinning roguishly, I lowered my chest to his, feeling the heat radiate, watching a rosy aura begin to form around the transfigured bed. He rolled me onto my back, quick, playful kisses being randomly placed wherever his lips met skin. I laughed lightly, my hands searching for their own target, until his mouth found a very sensitive spot. I mewled louder than anticipated as Severus latched onto the hardened bud, suckling harshly. Oh, sweet pleasure! My knees opened invitingly, my hand lowering to adjust him into place.

Pulling back, there was almost an evil spark in his eyes, and with an upward twist of his lips, he whispered, "Ah, ah, ah, not yet. I love watching you writhe."

His fingers expertly danced their way across my body eliciting moans and groans that I'm certain the portraits were straining to visualize.

"Oh, Sweet Circe!" I cried feeling the temperature build. I arched toward him, wanting, desiring closer contact, but he rolled onto his back, dragging me on top. I felt the loss, but the assault didn't stop there. It was my turn. Starting at his collarbone, I worked my way down, my lips caressing across his nipples, following the line on fine dark hair that changed from a thick expansion to a light spattering to a thin line drawing to a twitching appendage that demanded satisfaction. Oh, what I could do, but my lustful intentions were cut short by Severus' hands lifting me to face him. Slowly lowering, I impaled myself, and we both let out a cry of relief, and the dance heightened. The aura glowed deep red as the heat within our confine grew. Our fingers linked, and we arched toward each other, feeling the depth of the union. Flipping me onto my back, we continued, feeling the climax build. Balancing on his forearms, Severus pushed hard into me, the last thrust forcing my voice.

"Oh, Gods, Severus!" I exclaimed followed by a roar of pure emotion.

"Severus? Severus? What's going on?" A third voice had our eyes fly open in shock.

Severus balanced on one arm and wandlessly cast toward the fire. "Out!" he roared, shutting the Floo down as I let out another scream. His climax followed mine within seconds, the interruption having very little effect on his performance. As he lowered onto his elbows and rolled to the side, he tucked me comfortably under his arm, I began to chuckle.

"Any idea who?" I asked, spanning my hand across his chest.

"Bloody meddling woman," he muttered, stroking my shoulder. "That's one thing I didn't anticipate."

As we lay there in the aftermath, a voice from the left side of the desk cleared her throat. "Ahem, if you'll excuse me," Dilys Derwent began. "So sorry to interrupt, but I thought you may wish to know. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, although it appears that they saw nothing, believe, Sir, that you are torturing someone."

Severus pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut while I let out a hearty laugh.

"Torture? If that was torture, then, tie me up and do it again!" I exclaimed.


	62. Chapt 61 Damage Control

**61 - Damage Control**

The last of the snow had melted leaving muddy paths around the castle grounds. Spring was on its way, crocuses were beginning to poke their heads out of the softening earth, and students were anxiously awaiting Easter Break. By the end of the week, the school would be void of chatter, but for now, the staff was busy setting revision schedules, preparing the masses for end-of-year exams.

Severus had been on edge since his last visit with Voldemort. He had discovered Miss Lovegood, along with several others, being held prisoner in the basement of Malfoy Manor. Although it was not uncommon to find captives at the Manor, he was taken aback as to the length of time she had been there without his knowledge. He was usually kept apprised of such things. However, those presently residing in the Manor were operating on their own agendas, trying to ingratiate themselves to their Lord, and much to their satisfaction, with the prisoners "assistance", Voldemort had finally uncovered the location of the elusive Elder Wand. He needed Severus' assistance to retrieve it, and it was a task that left my partner in a foul mood. The creases on his brow and around his eyes deepened, and his scowl intensified. Whenever I broached the subject, he refused to reply; finally, he shut himself off from me. I hadn't seen him in the past two days.

By the middle of the week, while afternoon classes were in attendance and Severus was out, I snuck up to the Headmaster's office for a chat with Albus. I felt uneasy, off–track, and needed to find my balance. Albus recognized my discomfort, suggesting that I had lost sight of my duty, my destiny. Although admirably helping to keep the Potter boy safe by watching over him, I had neglected my quest for the remaining horcruxes. There were still two unaccounted for – the Hufflepuff goblet and whatever had been taken from Ravenclaw.

Albus and I had had lengthy discussions over the years and had a fair idea of what the missing item was, but we were at a loss as to where it was presently hidden. This was the artefact that had been in the Dark Forest of Albania, the treasure that Riddle had retrieved as a young man. Albus seemed to think that the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower could help. She had been the daughter of the founder. He had spoken with her prior to his demise, but she was hesitant to divulge any information. Interesting. There weren't many who would deny my grandfather anything. He asked that I continue the investigation. Seeing as I had been in Ravenclaw House, he thought this might be common ground that the ghost may relate to. I agreed. She always seemed unapproachable, sad and distant, and my feeling in the forest had been very distinct: a descendant of Ravenclaw who had been hurt, betrayed somehow, someone angry. Could the Grey Lady hold the missing key?

By the end of the week, while the last classes were being held, I wandered the empty corridors, in search of Ravenclaw's ghost. The Grey Lady wasn't difficult to find, floating high above the vacated tables in the Great Hall, talking quietly with the ghost of Gryffindor House, but getting her to reveal her story was a task. As suspected, though, my connection with her House and knowledge of the hiding place in Albania triggered the heartbreaking tale of treachery, jealousy, and murder. She confessed that she had told her story to only one other, a student who seemed compassionate toward her. However, she later recognized his false charm and eventual betrayal. The item in question had been her mother's diadem, an item of honour she embarrassedly admitted to coveting, and this student had sought it out and stolen it from her hiding place so far away. As an adult, he returned to the castle with it, hiding it in an unknown spot. Where? She wasn't certain, a hidden room, she thought, but was reluctant to help further, burying her face in her hands, and weeping as she floated through the wall leading to the main entranceway.

_A hidden room? In this ancient castle? Who would imagine?_ I thought cynically. This was something that I would have to bring up with Severus the next time I could pin him down. The man had been impossible to locate lately.

"Vandals! Sheer and utter abomination! Oh, Minerva, how could this have happened?" Poppy cried, her face crumpled in deep concern.

"I'll tell you how." Madam Hooch firmly placed her hands on her hips, shaking a rough finger at the distressed matron. "The vile filth that runs this school must have let them in, unless he did it himself." The flying instructor was fairly fuming.

"We have no proof, although it does seem likely, but he's not the only one of You-Know-Who's followers in the school. I can't see him doing the deed himself, but then again, I couldn't see him killing Albus either." The Transfiguration professor shook her head, somewhat confused. "This is more Carrow's style, not Severus'."

Reluctantly, the others agreed. I couldn't believe my ears this morning when the news filtered through the portraits in the halls. Albus' tomb had been desecrated in the wee hours of morning, broken open, and his wand stolen. Had he had the Elder Wand all along? I went in search of Severus for answers, but he was, predictably, nowhere to be found, so I took to wandering the halls, eavesdropping on whatever conversations contained information. The students had left that morning, ignorant of the intrusion to the grounds, and finding the professors and mediwitch outside the staffroom late on a Saturday afternoon was a stroke of luck.

"What are we going to do?" Professor Sprout questioned, clasping her hands. "It's been struck with Dark magic. Impossible to repair. We have to think of something. We can't leave his body exposed like that."

Professor McGonagall straightened, determination in her eyes. "No, we can't. I'll have a chat with our Headmaster, _if_ I can find him. Ever since that incident we overheard in his office, he's been avoiding me. I've kept my eyes open, thinking it may be a staff member or student, possibly even Mistress Di Marco, but no one seems to be suffering from ill effects, and Mistress Di Marco is her usual pleasant self," she crisply stated. "But, we definitely heard a scream."

Professor Sprout nodded vigorously, her tattered hat being held in place by her wiry hair, while the others looked very concerned at the increased rate of violence within the school. I leaned against the corner of the wall, my cheeks turning crimson. Had I really been _that_ loud?

Finally returning to my quarters, I found that the wards had been disturbed. Drawing my wand from my sleeve, I gave the password, pushed the door open, and guardedly eased into the dark, main room. There was no one in sight. As I began to sweep through the chamber, checking behind the sofa and around the island counter in the kitchen, an odd hissing sound emerged from the direction of the bedroom. The door was ajar. I had left it wide open this morning. Cautiously moving forward, I pushed it open further until it touched the wall behind, and carefully entered. The sound was louder here, and seemed to emanate from the bathroom. The shower? Curiously easing that door open, I spied Severus standing naked in the stall, his clothes in an uncharacteristic heap on the bathroom floor. He faced the scalding spray, hands flat against the wall, allowing the water to pound onto his face and upper body. His hair completely obscured his eyes as the steam rose and filled the room. His shoulders shook slightly, and I sensed great distress, unreserved sorrow, and regret. Backing out of the room, I left him alone, giving him his privacy. I was pleased that of all places, he chose to come here, to me, somewhere where he felt safe.

A simple spaghetti bolognaise was simmering on the cooker, the smell of oregano, onions, and garlic filtering through my quarters when Severus finally emerged. His hair was towelled dry, and he was dressed in a black, velour bathrobe, looking more pallid than I had ever seen him. I could tell that _Occlumency _was in force to guard himself against whatever emotions were too difficult to handle at the moment. I flickered a weak smile as he stood in the bedroom doorway. He didn't speak. I poured two glasses of a rich crimson Bordeaux and offered him one. His glazed, stygian eyes gazed at me as if he didn't know what to do, but finally, he reached out and took the glass. Taking a sip, he inhaled deeply and stepped into the living room.

Nothing was said in the hour that followed, as we sat on the sofa, my arms wrapped protectively around his shoulders, his head resting on my chest, arm draped over my waist. I stroked his hair and his back letting him absorb the comfort that I sent. _Occlumency_ was finally released, and I could sense what had happened. He had not only admitted Voldemort to the grounds but had led him to Albus' tomb. He knew what would happen, knew what the Dark Lord was after, but could do nothing to stop it.

As darkness began to fill the room, I cast _"Incendio"_ onto the logs on the hearth. The crackling wood quickly warmed the chamber, and the peaceful glow eased a weary mind. Shifting slightly under the weight of his upper body, my lips twitched upward at the light snore that emerged. _Accio_ing a blanket from the wing chair, I had it open and spread itself over the sleeping man. Twisting my head toward the kitchen, I cast a Stasis Charm on dinner. I had no desire to get up at the moment, no desire to disturb my husband. I wanted him to know that I would always be there for him.

A couple of hours passed before he stirred. I had summoned a book to read, and by this time my arm around him had gone numb. Raising sleepy eyes to meet mine, he uttered the first words since arriving. "I'm sorry."

Returning his gaze, I tenderly replied, "I understand."

"You always understand." He lowered his head back to my chest.

I smiled softly. "It's my nature."

"I have to fix it. He can't be left like that," Severus quietly declared.

"How?" I calmly asked.

"I don't know." He closed his eyes as if to block out a bad memory.

"I think I do," I thought back, remembering something that had happened during the winter. "I think I can do it."

Severus raised his body from mine and sat with a puzzled expression. "It's Dark magic. I don't want you touching it."

I watched him for a moment. His concern was evident. Twitching a faint smile and nodding confidently, I replied, "I can do it. I know I can."

He rose from the sofa and held out his hand to help me up. "Then, we do it together. You're not to go alone."

It was nearing eleven o'clock when we emerged from the dungeon exit and made out way toward my grandfather's damaged tomb. The half waxing moon shone on the lake, reflecting its light and strength, guiding our path. The Dark Lord's spell had left a gaping hole on the waterside; the exposed remains of my grandfather in perfect preservation, as if he were merely asleep. Holding Severus' hand, I cast a circle and called the deities and guardians. They answered with a gentle vibration that pulsed through the ground, rising up our legs, and into our bodies. Raising our arms to the sky, I made my request: assistance in repairing my grandfather's burial place. At first there was no response, then I heard Severus gasp. Spinning to see what had happened, his eyes were closed, his chin held high. He was muttering so softly that I couldn't hear what he was saying. With my left hand still clasped in his right, I instinctively reached my projective hand to the polished marble. A silvery-white aura began to materialize, radiating from my fingers to the smooth stone. Concentrating hard, I called on whatever guardian could help, and as we waited, Severus' projective hand joined mine on the glowing surface. The aura increased rapidly, encompassing both the tomb and us, and the marble slowly began to reconstruct. It was a sight to behold, and one that left me in awe. When the task was done and the circle released, Severus smiled a weak smile.

"You _could_ do it, but I _had_ to do it. They knew that." He nodded toward the heavens. "It took both of us. Your truth and purity, and my regret and desire to make it right."

The walk back to my chambers was warmer than the walk out, and I could feel the healing power of the Goddess pulse through my husband. He wasn't Wiccan, but I realized that he had a connection to the deities through me. There was good in him that they acknowledged. Maybe someday, when all of this was over, he could truly follow the path.

Sunday dinner was tense, the remaining professors and students carefully watched their Headmaster as we gathered together in the Great Hall. The Carrows weren't in attendance, having been called to the Dark Lord's side. Severus and I had spent the remainder of last evening and all of today in my chambers talking in depth about what needed to be done. I told him about my meeting with the Grey Lady, and he was convinced that the diadem was hidden somewhere in the Room of Requirement, in the room's form as "a place to hide things". Young Malfoy had used that room last year to work on his method of letting Death Eaters into the castle, and it had apparently been a hiding place for many items over the centuries. Locating the diadem would be difficult.

However, another problem arose. Other students were presently using the room, and while it was occupied no one else could enter. Neville Longbottom, whose grandmother had been threatened by Death Eaters, had returned to this secret location to hide. Others were slowing joining him. Severus recognized the situation several days ago and chose to ignore it, privately praising the boy for his determination and daring. But now, he had to devise a plan to either get them out, which would mean to risk their lives and his cover, or somehow direct Potter to the room so that he could go after the diadem himself. We chose the latter. I would somehow get the boy the information. This led to a difficult decision. One that was painful but necessary. I had to leave. I had gone as far as possible with the Magpie Potion and to stay any longer would raise suspicion. It was time to continue my task with the Potter boy. Severus assured that when he placed the Gryffindor sword in Lestrange's vault at Gringotts, the Hufflepuff goblet was there. However, the vault was under a multitude of dangerous enchantments. It would be my job to ensure that the Potter boy knew where to find the last horcruxes and how to retrieve them safely. I wasn't looking forward to leaving. I had enjoyed these months with Severus and had become accustomed to having him around. The Cumberland safe house would once again become my home, but he refused to risk joining me there. It was time to make my excuses.

Clearing my throat, I lay my napkin by my plate. "Headmaster," I directed toward Severus. "You will be pleased to know that I will be leaving this week." His head rose, and his eyes narrowed. "I want to thank you and the staff for allowing me access to the school and its amenities. I know that my presence has not been convenient, or desired." I twitched a small smile at him. "But, I wanted you to know that I appreciate your hospitality."

"When do you leave?" Severus gruffly asked, playing his part well.

"I'm not certain. Within a few days if all goes well. I need to pack all of the supplies, equipment, and notes. I would like to leave the lab in the pristine condition that it was in before I arrived. Of course, I will inform you before I actually depart. I promise not to disappear without a proper good-bye." I winked cheekily at the stern man.

Professor Slughorn snorted amusedly but said nothing, and Professors McGonagall and Sprout cast curious sideways glances at each other.

"Won't be soon enough," Severus snarled quietly and continued to devour his meal.

"Poppy," I directed toward the mediwitch. "I have a few things in the lab that I'm certain you could use. I'll bring them up tomorrow morning."

I wanted to say "good-bye" to my old friend privately. Who knows how this would all turn out, and I didn't want to leave without acknowledging how much I appreciated her. She nodded briefly, her watery eyes reflecting her understanding of the situation.

The other professors at the table expressed their best wishes with my future endeavours, hoping that the time spent here had been as productive as I had anticipated. The meal ended in quiet conversation.

On the last day of the week, with the lab and my belongings packed, I readied to leave. Severus and I intended to spend one last night together in the comfortable quarters that he had so carefully decorated, snuggled in each others arms, drawing strength and comfort for the difficult time we knew lay ahead. What I didn't expect was the fuming, ranting madman that stormed into the living room sending a startled raven bolting from his perch on the back of the chair to the top of my wardrobe. Severus was shaking, and I couldn't tell whether it was from fury, fear, or the combination of both.

"Potter and the others have been captured," he stated brusquely while he paced the black carpet. "Malfoy is holding them at his Manor and is not letting anyone in. For some reason they haven't called the Dark Lord yet. I heard screaming. It sounded like Granger. My guess is Bellatrix is having some fun first." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Damn, my hands are tied."

"Not completely." My mind transferred rapidly into analytic mode as I watched our peaceful evening disappear. "Stark," I called. "Head to Malfoy Manor. Keep an eye on the activities, and report back to Severus. We need to know what's happening to the prisoners, particularly if they get away." Stark nodded perceptively, and I opened the window for the bird to depart. "Pinky," I called again and within a second the devoted house elf appeared between us. "I have to leave, but you're to stay here to serve the Master. If anything happens, I trust you to use your judgement to do what you must. When you're ready, return to the safe house." Her brow furrowed with concern, and I knelt to her level taking her tiny hand in mine. "I don't know where I will be or how long it will take. I would rather know that you are not alone." With her chin quivering, she nodded, bowed and popped out of the room. Turning to Severus, I asked, "Can I take the map with me?"

He nodded, black eyes piercing in fortitude. "I'll talk to Albus. Tell him what's happening. I'll bet he still hasn't told us everyone involved. There has to be someone out there who can help."

Before leaving the room, Severus solemnly watched as I gathered my things, reducing them to fit into my pocket. "I'm going to miss you, cara," he uttered tenderly. "You've been my shelter in this storm."

"Remember, caro. It's never "good-bye"," I smiled half-heartedly as I reached up to lovingly kiss his lips.

"Until we meet again," we whispered in unison.


	63. Chapt 62 Listening To Inner Voices

**62 – Listening To Inner Voices **

_Have faith. They'll be all right. Help will come. _

I had Apparated from the outer boundary of Hogwarts to the deserted, back garden of the Cumberland safe house late last night. Upon entering the damp, lonely structure, the fires were lit to stave off the April chill, and the kettle was put on for tea. Proceeding to the bedroom to unpack my belongings, I enlarged them to normal size and placed them in the wardrobe beside Severus' abandoned clothes. After leisurely changing into jeans and a t-shirt, one of Severus' heavy jumpers over the top, I moved to the study, piling the research on the massive, oak desk. Returning to the kitchen and listlessly unrolling the map onto the ancient, wooden table; I sipped a good, hot, lemon tea and gazed at the sketched chart. I really didn't expect anything to happen just yet. Albus' portrait had assured that there was someone who could help the trio but couldn't guarantee when or how. Absently holding the pendulum above the aged, cracked parchment, it swung, and I gaped at the results. The trio was no longer at Malfoy's immaculate, rural estate, but across the country near the ocean, in a place I had visited months ago. This was a surprise. Rapidly downing my drink, I gathered my rucksack and filled it with food and water. Re-rolling the map and tucking it across the top, I stuffed the pendulum into my jeans pocket. There was now a sense of urgency as I returned to the backyard and secured the house. Focusing on my last hiding place where the trio was now located, I quickly Disapparated to that site.

The small, woodshed behind the picturesque cottage became my temporary shelter as I crouched down near a stack of logs. Conventional wizard wards and Protective Shields were bypassed by strong Earth magic and a skilfully cast Disillusionment Charm. No one would detect my presence.

The early rays of dawn began to shimmer over the edge of the horizon casting pinkish gold hues across the rough waves of the English Channel. The front windows of the small cottage reflected the beauty of the rising colour. I remained cast in the shadow behind the quaint home, secretly watching as a small group emerged from the screened, back door.

The Potter boy was at the rear of a garden between a stand of bushes, a spade in his hand, looking solemn as he patted the last bit of earth in place. I scanned the building and noted that not all were coming to join him. Two others remained in the house, an old man and a goblin, both injured. My guess was that the boy had gallantly rescued whoever was being held prisoner at Malfoy's last night, just as he had done at the Ministry in the fall with those accused of questionable heritage.

I remained silent, studying the proceedings from my spot behind the logs. The group circled around the little mound of earth, sombrely saying their "good-byes" and expressing their gratitude for help received. They looked tired, beaten down. The Granger girl appeared to have suffered the most from the ordeal, walking carefully with Arthur's youngest son's assistance as they eventually headed back to the cottage.

While the others returned to the warmth of the kitchen, the Potter boy remained, staring down at the plot of dirt as if he didn't know what to do next. His sorrow was great, and he slowly lowered himself to the gravesite. On his knees and with an unsteady hand, he carved words into a rock, a headstone, and placed it at one end of the pile. Straightening, he stood, gazing blankly beyond the plot to the waves. I could see the dirt mixed with blood on his clothes and hands, and my heart went out to him. What had Albus done? Why give this boy such an arduous task? He was so young. There were always options. The boy gave the impression of exhausted defeat.

_Gringotts. The cup is in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts. Talk to the goblin,_ I sent.

The boy looked up and turned his head to the right as if something had struck his subconscious. He had heard, but did he understand?

_The goblin can help, but don't trust him. Trust your instincts. You need to get into Gringotts,_ I sent again.

The boy's jaw tightened, his face hardened as comprehension set in. Yes, he understood. I smiled. The message had been received. Striding purposefully, he marched back to the new hideout while I leaned against the logs with a sigh of relief. I'd wait a while until certain that the boy was on track.

After two days hiding near the woodshed, I was finally comfortable enough with the situation to leave. Potter had spoken to the goblin, and they had begun to make plans. At first, the goblin was hesitant to help. Gringotts had very high security, and it went against his moral code to do anything against other goblins in favour of a wizard. Nevertheless, with a little outside "suggestion", the goblin finally relented. However, his mind didn't work in the way I was accustomed, and although he agreed to help, there was a catch. He wanted the sword as payment.

In a private conversation overheard between the trio as they excused themselves from the house, Arthur's son came up with an idea that made me chuckle. I didn't think he had that deceptiveness in him: Promise the sword to the goblin, but don't tell him when he'd get it. It would work, but it could also backfire. Goblins don't trust "wand holders", and he would see it as a betrayal. Solutions were brought forth, and their plan was developing well.

The simple washroom facilities of the safe house were greatly appreciated after days in the rough. A toilet. An actual toilet, rather than Transfigured rocks and a complicated spell was my first stop. Then, the steam from a hot shower filled the tiny room as I stripped off my clothes and lathered up with soothing fragrances. Oh, this felt so good. Once my skin began to prune, the water was turned off, and I wrapped myself in a large bath sheet, padding barefoot to the bedroom. It was still reasonably early, but I was tired, and the bed looked so inviting. Crawling under the soft, down comforter, my mind began to formulate plans of my own. Gringotts. I had only been there a few times to access a seldom-used account that had been set up by the British Ministry when I worked with them. All funding for my present research had been directly deposited, and my basic needs were met at Hogwarts, so there was never a need for me to go. Now would be the perfect time to visit the bank. I could go under the premise of needing to transfer my assets to an associated bank in Wizard Rome. At that time, I could check out the new security before Potter and the others arrived. As ideas drifted through my head, exhaustion took over, and I fell into a peaceful sleep.

The week passed slowly, and I kept a close watch on the trio, both through the map and through regular visits to the cottage. The time was approaching for their trip to Diagon Alley, and although nervous, the group seemed confident with their decision.

As I was preparing to leave after checking on them one evening, the sudden arrival of an old friend urged me to stay. The trio had gone back to the house after a private "chat" by the wood shed, and Bill was preparing to bring the old wand-maker to his aunt's when Remus arrived, looking haggard and flustered. Passwords were given, and he was admitted into the home. I snuck closer to hear the conversation and received a strong empathic impression from my former lover. Tonks, his wife, had given birth. He was a father. The elation that filled him was overpowering, and the wave of mixed emotions that filled me caught my breath. I was so happy for him. He deserved this, but at the same time, I was reminded of all I had lost, all I had given up to carry out Albus' bidding. Tears prickled in my eyes, and my chest constricted as I Disapparated back to the safe house for the evening. I was ashamed of my jealousy, of my selfishness. Remus was my friend, and goodness knows, he deserved to be happy.

Gringotts was still a busy place even amidst the political tension, and I mingled with the crowd as a path cleared for the image of Bellatrix Lestrange and her redheaded companion. I had already cast a Confundus Charm on the outer security guard when he thought he spied a white trainer resting on the sidewalk all by itself. I knew it was the Potter boy and the goblin under the boy's infamous Invisibility Cloak. The cloak had accidentally slipped, and the boy's foot was exposed. They would have to be more careful. As they made their way to the counter, I was impressed by how coolly they handled the questions and security. Their confidence and my clandestine coaching from the woodpile were proving successful. Miss Granger skilfully signed for the vault using Lestrange's usurped wand having procured it from the battle at Malfoy's, but once they began their journey to the vault area, there was nothing I could do but wait. Focusing my powers on "listening" to what was going on, the connection faded as they entered the depths of the caverns. The natural configuration and density of the rock blocked my senses.

"Is there something I can help you with?" a deep voice asked as I stood at a high counter in the middle of the bank, staring at the entrance to the vaults.

I startled, realizing my suspicious posture. "Was that Bellatrix Lestrange?" I let my voice sound frightened.

The burly, wizard security guard followed my gaze and nodded briefly as I showed a slight shudder. "Scares you, does she?" The guard smiled arrogantly.

I nodded in return. "It's the eyes." I lowered my voice as if she could hear, my accent tinged with fear. Pulling a slip of parchment from my pocket, I pointed to the name and asked, "Do you know where I can find this man?"

The guard let out a snort. "Not from around here, are you? That's no man. That's a goblin. Head of International Accounts. Up the stairs. Third door to the left." He pointed as I tipped my head in thanks and proceeded toward the stairwell. I had taken care of this business last week but felt it prudent to retain any paperwork regarding the visit. You never know what might come in handy.

Within the hour, alarms sounded, and there was flurry of activity rushing toward the vaults. The trio had been discovered. Sitting against the wall in a small waiting area, I closed my eyes and focused on the structure of the building, trying to identify anything that could help me locate them. I sensed fear, adrenaline rushing, pain. They were on the move and had been injured by some of the security enchantments. The building shook, and there was a powerful rush as an unleashed creature from the depths of the bank came soaring up and through the rubble at one side of the crumbling cavern. On its back, three figures could barely be seen as the dragon rapidly ascended into the sky. _Freedom,_ I sensed so clearly that I had to force myself to control my response. In the midst of the pandemonium, I was able to sneak out. Their mission had been successful. They had the cup, and knew what had to be done next. For now, they would be on their own.

The chaos on the main street assisted my unobserved departure, and I quickly headed to the Leaky Cauldron to cross into Muggle London. There was a growing knot in the pit of my stomach, an uncomfortable feeling that inched its way up my spine and into the hairs at the back of my neck. Gut feeling? Intuition? I didn't know, nor did I care, but I had to acknowledge it. Nodding to the toothless proprietor as I crossed through the dingy bar, I eased my way into the hustle and bustle of lunchtime London. The years spent blending in, being a ghost, paid off. No one noticed.

Finding a quiet alley, I Disapparated to a park in a residential area across town. A Disillusionment Charm was cast as I half ran up the street to eventually observe my best friend near her car. She was unpacking groceries and heading up the concrete steps to the front door. I slowed and watched, closing the gap between us. Everything seemed calm. There was no one else on the street. I startled and stopped as the front door swung open, and Colin reached to take the bags. I was confused. They were fine. Then, what was I feeling? A droopy-eyed Ardianne stood in the doorway in her pink flowery pyjamas violently sneezing and wiping her nose as her mother returned to the car for more bags. As the family innocently entered the house and closed the door, I stood across the street scanning for any hidden magical forces. I didn't understand, there was nothing there, but the feeling of anxiety persisted. Reaching out for signals from within the house, there was nothing to indicate that they were in trouble. I sighed and slowly walked back to the park. Sitting on a wooden bench, I leaned back and inhaled deeply, arms hanging limply by my sides, calming the adrenaline, and focusing on the energies around me. I still had that gnawing feeling. Something was wrong. Something was building. Someone close was going to be affected. I Apparated back to the safe house to gather my thoughts.

The pendulum swung over the map and rested on the bank near a lake, just as it had an hour ago, and the hour before that. From what I could gather, the trio was resting, planning their next move, not wanting to return to the eldest Weasley's home, possibly putting everyone in danger. I felt helpless and impatient, that knot in my stomach still growing, making me feel ill. I tried the scrying dish but received nothing but fog. I wanted to call Pinky to ask what was happening at the school, but knew that it would only serve to worry her, and I wished that Stark was flying around where I could reach him. He was my only other contact to Severus, but I knew that too would serve no purpose.

Pulling out Albus' little cardboard box, I rifled through the contents and absently fingered the vial around my neck. When my receptive hand touched the old star chart, a slight shock rippled through my fingertips. Lifting it, I examined the dots that now appeared to be moving, realigning. Orion, the Hunter, was rising in the east to meet Scorpius, his mortal enemy, who was waiting in the west. They were on opposite polars and should never be in the sky at the same time. It was celestially impossible. Besides, this was a star chart of the year of my birth. Why was it showing a battle about to…? Oh… I sat back on the hard, wooden, kitchen chair, realization settling in. Tonight. It would all come to a peak tonight. My heart began to pound. But, how? Studying the chart again, I read the symbols and remembered the folklore. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach that had bothered me all day began to fade and was replaced with a shiver of nervousness, as I understood what needed to be done.

Packing my belongings and labelling them efficiently, I stacked them neatly against the wall of the bedroom. Pulling my rucksack onto my back, I exited into the yard, sealing the safe house securely. With a copy of my research tucked under my arm, I touched the glowing buds of Draconus Filiastus and Disapparated to St. Mungo's. The study had gone as far as it could go, and Healer Puddiwell could handle the last bit of observation. I was confident in that. Hopefully, in time, the Ministry or the hospital or both combined would see the validity of the potion and administer it to those who needed it. For now, there were other things that demanded my attention.

My fist pounded on the front door of the red brick house. The black shutters were closed, but I knew the dwelling was not empty. I could "hear" them inside. The wards were not as easy to penetrate as I had thought which meant that there were many magical folk here. My fist pounded again.

"Who is it?" an elderly voice finally barked. "What do you want?"

I had relied on my senses to bring me here and was surprised with what I found. The trim, well-kept garden and wealthy grounds were not what I had expected. "I'm here to see Remus Lupin," I called urgently.

"There's no one here by that name. You have the wrong house. Go away!" the woman's voice sharply ordered.

Puzzled, I focused on the inhabitants and knew I was right. "He's here, and I understand your caution. But think, how is it that I could break through your protections?"

"I don't know, but go away. You're not welcome here."

I sensed another familiar figure enter the room, and smiled. "Arthur is standing behind you, Molly behind him. The twins are at the table on the far side of the room," I directed to a confused old woman. "Remus can verify that I'm not a threat. Please, I need to speak with him."

"Tell me something that only Remus would know."

I recognized his voice immediately and began to grin nervously. "Where to begin?" I thought out loud. "I still wear the goddess necklace that you gave me for Valentine's years ago. I was concerned, because I thought it was silver, but you assured that it was pewter and perfectly safe."

I could sense heads curiously turn in his direction. "Tell me something else that only _we_ would know."

I grinned widely. "Are you sure? I do have a few stories." I paused. "How about the first night you took Wolfsbane? Belby was supposed to take the initial readings, but he had the flu. I know that's public knowledge, but if you recall, you ordered me out, and I refused. I told you that I wasn't afraid of you, that I knew you wouldn't hurt me. You were already starting to react to the moon, and you pushed me into the wall…hard. You scraped my chin with yours and tore the zipper on my coat. The iron rungs on the bed made for good leverage. Are you sure you want me to continue, because I will you know. Still makes me smile."

The door swung open, and my old friend stood before me looking sheepish. "I am married, you know."

"You started it," I chuckled lightly as I entered the main room. "Personally, I thought the necklace story was a good enough."

"Hello Dani." His face warmed my heart. "What brings you here?"

"Many things," I began. "I hear congratulations are in order, _Dad_."

Remus visibly straightened with pride, his grin beaming. "How did you hear?"

"That doesn't matter. I needed to see you and focused on coming to you. I didn't expect to come here. I do apologize," I directed toward the older woman whose house this obviously was. "This is actually better, because there are more of you." I swallowed hard and inhaled deeply, slowly. "Prepare yourselves. It appears that the battle will happen tonight."

All heads shot in my direction. "How do you know?" Molly asked gripping Arthur's elbow.

"She knows," both Remus and Arthur replied in unison looking solemn and concerned.

"I trust Dani with my life. Her instincts are amazing. She's never let me down," Remus added.

I stepped forward and drew my old friend into a tight hug. "Know this Remus Lupin, you will always have a place in my heart. Your wife is a very lucky woman. Go to her. Kiss your son."

Remus returned the hug and kissed my forehead. "You're one special woman, Dani. Broke my heart, you did, but became one of the best friends a person can have. What are you going to do?"

"I'm heading to Hogwarts. Goodness knows Poppy is going to need help tonight. Maybe my other skills can come in handy, too." I turned to Arthur. "Alert the others. Spread the word." My instructions were interrupted by Ginny rushing into the room, her hand clutched tightly around something small. Fred and George had the same urgent look about them. "He's there already, isn't he?" I asked to their puzzled expressions. "If I've read you properly, you've just received word that Harry has arrived at Hogwarts. You have to go."

"She's not going anywhere!" Molly announced forcibly. "She's underage. Fred. George. What is this?"

"She's right," one of the twins nodded toward me, holding up a gold coin. "Dumbledore's Army is being called. We have to go." They rose and headed for the door. Molly blocked Ginny's path.

_Let her go. This may be her last chance to see Harry. Give her that moment with him_.

Molly stepped out of the way to the surprise of all in attendance, kissed her daughter's cheek, and quietly stood by her husband.

Ginny and her brothers left. Molly wiped her eyes. Arthur began to pace, trying to decide whom to call first. Remus gathered his cloak, and we stood staring at each other for a moment. Then, our arms reached out, and we clashed into a tight embrace, my face burying into his chest, his into the crook of my neck.

"I love you, Remus. You're a dear, sweet man. You'll always be in my heart," I choked.

"And, you in mine," he replied tenderly.

"Kiss that baby of yours for me. Tell your wife you love her." I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand as Remus nodded.

Stepping apart, I reached to Arthur and drew him into a hug. "Watch your back tonight, my friend." He nodded in reply as Remus and I backed toward the door. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you Molly." I waved to the redheaded mother of seven who stood wringing her hands.

Remus opened the door, and we stepped out together. After a last quick embrace, he Disapparated home, and I Disapparated to the outer boundary of Hogwarts.


	64. Chapt 63 Go Gently Into The Night

**63 - Go Gently Into The Night**

The path from the boundary into the forest was dark, and the lack of stars made for a very guarded jog onto the grounds. About halfway in, I detected voices, and the forest floor trembled with the pounding of hooves. The Centaurs were on the move. They had no love for wizards and would not choose sides, but I knew they would defend their home against any intruder. The Order had been warned to stay out of the woods, and Severus made mention that the Dark Lord planned to gather his people in a clearing not far from Hagrid's old hut. This could work in our favour. As I passed an ancient oak and leaped over an unearthed root, my path was blocked by a formidable, imposing figure.

"Humans in the forest. This is not wise." Ronan stood tall, looking down on me.

I took a step back, one foot behind, one in front, and bowed deeply to the Centaur. "I mean no harm, and do not wish to trespass. Danger is coming tonight. It is in the stars. My help will be needed at the castle."

He eyed me dauntingly. "You have been permitted in the forest in the past, and show proper respect for my race. Go with caution, Human. We have read the same stars," Ronan replied as he stepped out of my way.

"Thank you." I bowed again and continued to jog through the dense vegetation, grateful for the moment of rationality from the habitually hostile creature.

Nearing the glade where I had once witnessed Severus bully Professor Quirrell, I slowed and eased my way around the trees, sensing an approaching presence. A caw sounded from above as a frightening, black spectre swooped to the ground, taking form. His knees buckled, and he crumbled to the earth, face in hands. The caw sounded again from a branch above my head, and the man looked up.

"Rough night?" I asked emerging from the shadows.

Severus quietly groaned, and I could feel his turmoil. "Potter is in the castle. Longbottom and the others have been hiding in the Room of Requirement and will join him in the fight. He knows where to go?"

"He knows to go to Ravenclaw Tower. I didn't know where the diadem was, but the Grey Lady should help."

Severus nodded and stood, gathering himself. "As will the portraits. The old Headmasters have rallied and will seek him out. McGonagall has summoned the other Heads and will mobilize the school into a defensive posture. I overheard that they will evacuate all under-aged students and those who do not wish to fight." Severus' chin jutted out, and I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "They chased me out." His lip curled in annoyance. "The Dark Lord has been summoned. I must go to him. I will try to slow him down. Why are you here?" His brow furrowed as if the thought suddenly struck him.

"I'm going to the castle. Poppy will need my help, and I'll be close should you need me."

He shook his head and stood poker straight. "That was foolish," he chastised sharply. "You'll be in the thick of the fight. You could be harmed."

"I'm obligated to help Potter fulfil his destiny," I countered defiantly.

"You've done your duty. He's on his own now. I'm certain that the Headmasters can guide him if need be. Go home, Daniella," he urged, the concern in his eyes belying his stern posture.

"I can't. I have to be here." My response was firm.

A caw drew our attention to the sleek raven in the tree.

_Something's coming_, he warned.

_Stay with your Master_, I sent as the bird took flight to higher branches.

Reaching out to my husband, we grasped onto each other, feeling our hearts unite and reverberate in the still air around us.

"Ti amo, cara," Severus whispered into my hair. "You've always been there for me."

"Ti amo, caro," I whispered in return. "I always will."

Stepping apart, we silently nodded to each other and went our separate ways: Severus disappearing into the darkness of the forest like smoke on the breeze and me toward the backwater entrance of the dungeons, the Draconus Filiastus that I had planted a year ago glowing its Protective Shield into the night.

The castle was in utter chaos. Animated furniture and armour raced through the corridors on their way to defend their fortress. Teachers and Order members were issuing instructions and directing frightened students to the Great Hall, preparing them for departure. I had made my way up from the dungeons almost unnoticed. Only Peeves detected me as he joyfully tore apart an abandoned classroom. When he saw me, his eyes widened in fright, but then, he stuck out his tongue and spiralled up to the rafters, out of my reach. I dashed past and up the flight of stairs that led to the main entrance. The battle had begun. Death Eaters had infiltrated the main foyer, and the clash was on. I joined the fray as spells were frantically cast in all directions, ripping apart ancient stone and alighting the tapestries. Ducking into a small alcove, I focused on the Potter boy, trying to determine his location. He was several floors above, moving quickly, and then suddenly disappeared. He must have found the hidden site of the diadem. I bolted up the nearest flight of stairs that were effectively tossing the enemy over the railing. I was thankful that they recognized my attempt to protect Hogwarts as I dashed for the Headmaster's office. I didn't know if I could get in, but I needed to try.

The stone gargoyle at the base of the spiral staircase silently stood guard as I raced past and up the steps two at a time, momentum launching me forward. Reaching the heavy office door, it remained closed, and as I was about to run into it, it opened and slammed shut behind me. The portraits were nearly all empty, all but one.

"What are you doing here?" I flew at my grandfather's portrait. "Why aren't you helping?"

He sat, staring blankly into the empty office. "What do you suggest I do?" he passively asked lowering his eyes to me.

"Oh, I don't know," I snapped bitterly. "Our world in falling apart. Severus is on the run. The school is under attack. The Potter boy is somewhere here trying to locate the Ravenclaw artefact. We're all risking our lives to fight against an oppressive foe, and you're sitting here in the dark, alone, while the other portraits are out there passing along their wisdom and information. So many looked up to you, and you've abandoned them!" I raged.

"Maybe they should not have put so much faith in me." Albus' faded blue eyes drifted across the frame.

"You demanded it!" I roared. "Your skill at manipulation was masterful. How could we refuse? You selfish old man."

"Ah, there you have it." He nodded pensively. "Selfish. Indeed. A word I've heard many times before. Your grandmother called it obsessive, and, yes, selfish," he thought out loud. "But, as much as it angered her and drove us apart, she understood that sacrifices had to be made, as did your mother and father," he pointed out. "Your grandmother was a remarkable woman." Albus drifted in thought. "Strong, determined, a powerful witch, and, as much as I loved her, …part of the plan. But, then again, I think you've known, even when you were just a child, that everything was part of the plan." He eyed me knowingly. "My purpose was to serve the greater good, and in doing so I inadvertently drew others along. Few ever knew the true motivation behind my actions." He sombrely paused and absently fidgeted with the string that tied his beard. "They don't need my moral support." He nodded toward the door. "Nor do they need to be distracted from their task. There's nothing I can do."

"I can't believe you." I threw my hands into the air. "Inadvertently? You _knew_ what you were doing. You set us up to fight this battle, and now, you sit it out."

He chuckled derisively and turned his head toward me. "I've been fighting battles since before you were born. I've lost those I loved because of it. I think I've earned the right to sit this one out."

"No! You haven't!" I slammed my fist into the wall beside the portrait, startling him, snapping his eyes to mine. "You drew us into this. We've all lost loved ones. It's not over yet."

He stared at me, blue eyes meeting blue. He looked defeated, but after a moment of thought, he quietly responded, "There may be something else I can do."

Before he could explain, a loud crash sounded from the grounds, and the air around the castle shook. My attention was diverted, and when I returned my gaze to my grandfather, he was gone. Anger boiled within, and I spun to leave his former domain. As I reached the door, I received a light impression.

_I'm very proud of you, my dear_.

The corridors and foyer were a mess of wounded and dead, the battle moving rapidly through the lower sections of the hallowed halls. Landing back in the main entranceway, I heard a husky voice of an elderly house elf lead a "charge" as the rest of the minute staff joined the fight. Pinky was being pushed along in the crowd looking terrified, and I reached out to her. She managed to grasp my hand, clinging tight, and I hauled her protectively against the wall. With my little friend in tow, I struck down several of the enemy before finally reaching the massive, wooden doors of the Great Hall. Ducking in, Pinky wrapped her thin arms around my legs knocking me off balance.

"Mistress is returned. Mistress is safe. Mistress didn't forget Pinky," she sobbed into the edge of my jumper.

I knelt to face my tiny companion. " I could never forget you. Ever," I assured, gathering her into a comforting embrace. "I've come to help. Stay with me."

Pinky nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks as we gazed around the large room. There were already a number of injured, and no words were spoken as Poppy raised her head and pointed to the opposite side of the chamber where more people were being brought in. Most were students: those who chose to remain, those old enough to fight, but too young to recognize the danger over the glory. There was no glory in war, only death and destruction. When would the young learn?

Pinky stayed at my side, and we worked together to console and heal the wounded, but as I was bent over one young Auror, Pinky tugged at my sleeve, sounds of panic gurgling from her throat. Finally turning to see what was wrong, her eyes were transfixed on the new batch of injured being brought in. Visually scanning the group, I felt my heart hit the inside of my rib cage. My eyes never left the newcomers as I swam through the crowd, the bile rising in my throat. Collapsing onto my knees and using my wand to scan for any sign of life, I unconsciously cried out as the sightless, soft grey eyes of my dear friend stared at the enchanted ceiling. The horrible wrenching in my chest gave testament to the pain I felt. Remus. Another casualty of this madness. Oh, Goddess. He had so much to live for. I buried my face in my hands and wept for such a meaningless loss, and as I knelt there, another body was laid beside his, a young woman with mousy, brown hair, flecks of pink still streaked through the ends. "Tonks", I uttered softly. What about the baby? After what seemed to be an eternity, I passed my hands over their faces, closing their lifeless eyes. They looked so peaceful, like they were sleeping.

Rising unsteadily, I turned to continue with my task when a voice boomed through Hogwarts. Voldemort was calling to Potter. He wanted to end the fight. He wanted Potter to come to him. The boy would do it. I knew he would. Now, I understood what Severus meant. It was no longer in my hands. The boy knew all of the horcruxes. He no longer needed my direction. My job was done.

As the battle raged outside, my head began to spin, and I could feel a tension rise throughout my entire body. Standing in the centre of the Great Hall, I rotated, numbly examining the scene that played out before me. It was like watching something through a crystal ball, fishbowl-like, and distorted. I felt disembodied, ill. My knees were weak. Suddenly, there was a piercing pain in the side of my neck, and I gasped as a bolt of excruciating heat shot through my veins. My body began to convulse, and my knees began to buckle. It was a sharp caw from the rafters that drew my attention up, drawing my foggy senses back to the present. Stark was streaking in, frantic and circling.

_Maw. Maw. Mum. Mum. He's hurt. He's dying_. I held my arm out for Stark to land. S_nake…bit…wolf…house… _The panicked raven wheezed, struggling to get his message out, his claws digging into the muscle of my arm, snapping me back to full awareness. _Help. Need help_. His wings flapped madly.

Pinky had a firm grip on my jumper as I stared at the bird. _The wolf man's house? _I asked to clarify the location. That's what Stark had always called the Shrieking Shack.

Stark nodded and took flight again. _Help. Father needs help, _he urgently cawed as he soared back to the rafters and out the open window.

Shaking my head abruptly to clear it, I picked Pinky up in my arms like a small child, settling her on my hip. Taking a quick, last look around the crowded chamber, the sobs of the parents, the cries of the wounded, the pile of the dead hit my senses like the flap of a hippogriff's wings. Taking a slight step backward and focusing on the fading energy of my husband, my bond, I Disapparated to a rickety upper room in the Shrieking Shack.

Poor Pinky was unceremoniously dropped to the dusty floor when we arrived. Severus was sprawled on his back; his black cloak spread around him, a silvery, blue vapour of dispersed memories lingering at every orifice on his face. His ebony eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. I stood holding my breath, listening to the scurrying of Harry and his friends as they exited out the tunnel at the base of the far wall, readying for their next step in the fight. Dropping to my knees, I held my wand above Severus' wound: snake bite, venom. That's what I had felt. Nagini had bit him. There were no apparent signs of life.

"No!" I cried placing my projective hand on his chest. "No! Feel my heart. Feel my life. Take the energy you need."

With my receptive hand on his forehead and projective hand on his heart, I could sense a minute wisp of strength beneath my palms. There was a flicker of life still there, but it was fading quickly.

"No!" I howled, willing my energy into him. "Stay with me. Caro! Stay with me!"

Pinky knelt by her Master, tenderly holding his hand, sobbing quietly, while Stark lit by his head, stroking his glossy feathers against his Master's, his father's cheek, a soft warbling sound being emitted from deep within his throat. As we all focused on the lifeless figure between us, a brilliant, white aura with a light blue hue began to form, encompassing the uncommon family. We weren't alone, and I felt encouraged. Pulling the tiny vial from around my neck, I uncorked the stopper, and trickled several drops of pearly, white liquid onto Severus' wound. Through my tears, I gathered enough strength to cast a spell, not knowing if it was too late.

"Head and heart, mind and soul,

Warm his blood and keep him whole.

My beating heart will stay the tune,

While Phoenix tears will heal the wound."

Replacing my projective hand on Severus' heart, my heart joined with his, transferring my energy to him, while my receptive hand monitored his brain function. The heart may stop first, but biologically, there's a three-minute delay before the brain shuts down. Did I get to him soon enough?

Time passed slowly, my life force draining into the unresponsive body of my husband. I would not give up. Pinky and Stark sat a vigil, patiently waiting, watching for any sign of change. I barely heard Voldemort call for a cease-fire, demanding that Potter face him, accusing the boy of prolonging the fight. I didn't care anymore. There was nothing I could do. I'd lost everyone that I had ever loved.

The brilliant, white-blue aura of the Goddess pulsed, changing form, becoming thicker, like a white fog, and I grew weak. Curling onto the floor at my husband's side, still holding my hand to his heart, still hoping for a miracle, my vision narrowed, growing black at the edges. My breath grew short, and a calming peace filled my soul, then, I remembered no more.

A/N – The epilogue will follow.


	65. Chapt 64 Epilogue And So It Ends

7

**Epilogue - And So It Ends **

Golden rays filtered through the treetops casting cool shadows in the heat of the mid-summer's day. The light breeze and the partial shade of the mountainside gave no relief to the soaring temperatures. The etched glass doors leading toward the carved stone terrace were open, allowing the air to circulate, gently rustling the gauzy, pastel blue draperies of the large, open-spaced main room. Even the birds hid from the mid-day heat, and I sought shelter under the large, pale green patio umbrella. In the distance, the faint sound of the Mediterranean could be heard as the tide began to rise. Fishermen would have ended their day hours ago having been up since before dawn, before the scorching sun. My eyes closed peacefully. It had been years since that fateful night; since the culmination of my life's secret work had come crashing down. So many lives were lost for the greater good. So many futures destroyed in order to secure a better life for those to come. The high price we had to pay. My hand fisted to my chest, feeling my heart pound hard at the memory.

I must have drifted off for when I woke a smiling face beamed at me from the edge of the swimming pool.

"You okay?" The girl splashed onto the pool deck, pulling a towel from a pile on a low table, wrapping it around her shoulders. "You were making a face. Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine." I reached out to take hold of her hand. "You've grown up so much. Tell me again what you thought of Headmistress McGonagall."

Adrianne flopped onto the chaise to my left tipping her head to the hot sun. "She reminds me of one of those prissy old maids whose girdle is too tight, really stiff, but she also seemed pretty nice. Neat how she hand-delivered the letter personally. How would she know that the whole family was home at the same time? Dad's schedule isn't always the same, and the boys are hardly ever home anymore."

I smiled weakly. "She's a witch, my love. We have our ways." I wagged my eyebrows playfully. "You'll learn. I'd love to go with you to Diagon Alley to get your things. First year at Hogwarts. I never had that experience."

"It must have been lonely. You know, no one to share this with except your parents," Adrianne sympathized. I had told her my story last year when she and her family arrived for their annual summer visit.

I nodded. "You're going to love it. When I was there, I was in Ravenclaw. Each House has its own characteristics, but each is strong. I can see you in Ravenclaw. You're certainly bright, but I think you have qualities that the other Houses revere as well." I grinned proudly at her. "We'll just have to wait and let the hat decide."

Adrianne and I chatted for a good hour before Emily poked her head out of the villa. Her face was creased on one side, and her chestnut hair was tousled. "This heat knocked me out," she yawned as she toddled out to join us. "Now, I understand the concept behind a siesta. What's the topic?" she asked as she flopped into a chair opposite us by the round, tile table and poured herself a tall glass of iced tea.

"Hogwarts," Adrianne and I chimed together, grinning.

"Ah, the excitement begins. Another few weeks, luv, then we make that trip." She smiled lovingly at her daughter. "I'm going to miss her so much," she directed toward me bringing her hand to her heart. "My baby. Boarding school. Oh, Daniella. I wish you could join us for her first witchy shopping spree. The Headmistress told us what to do and how to get there, but it won't be the same without you."

I smiled back. "I wish I could, but know I'll be with you in spirit."

An engine roar echoed off the side of the stone fence that surrounded my home, and our heads rose with the anticipation of the return of rowdy boys. The front door crashed open, and Colin came tumbling in laughing, his strawberry hair wind blown and face streaked with dust.

"Nick. Kevin. Well done!" Colin praised as the twins followed their father into the house.

Emily quickly rose, angrily striding to greet them. "You didn't let them ride, did you? Colin! I thought we agreed that they were too young."

"Mum, we're fourteen. Besides nothing would happen to us," Nick piped up, standing up for both himself and his brother.

"And, why is that? Do you think you're invincible? Those are not little mopeds. Those were real motorcycles, and the roads around here are steep and narrow. Oh, Colin…" Emily fumed at her husband. Adrianne and I stood in the patio doorway not certain whether to step in or retreat.

"Don't worry, Emily. I wouldn't let anything happen to them."

"Oh, really, and what did you do?" Emily huffed as she paced the main room, then realization dawned, and her voice softened. "Of course. I'm sorry, Stavros."

"Think nothing of it." The tanned face of my husband beamed through streaks of dust. Dressed in his customary, black, gabardine trousers and black t-shirt, the faded image of the Dark Mark lay quiescent on his left forearm, looking like some grotesque tattoo from younger years. His black hair was tied back in a low ponytail, specks of grey beginning to show at the temples. His tall, lean figure strode in; a slight limp on his right side gave evidence of an old wound. Although Nagini's bite had been lethal, it had not cursed with Dark magic, but I was slow in tending to Severus, therefore, the bottled Phoenix tears couldn't reverse all of the damage. He had been so close to death. His nervous system was permanently weakened. Even so, he looked the picture of health, and since our arrival in Spain, the years seemed to melt from his face. The creases that had etched around his eyes and mouth had smoothed somewhat, and he had put on some weight. No more charms. No more spells. Just us, the way we were. The memories he had given away to the Potter boy, although not erased completely from his mind, no longer dominated his every thought. He was happier, more at ease, and was enjoying the quiet life that we had made.

"And, how was your afternoon?" he directed toward Ardianne as he stepped into the main room. "Looks like you've enjoyed the pool."

"Pool!" the twins yelled as they dashed down the hall to their room to change.

Adrianne beamed at her uncle. They had developed a bond that rivalled mine with her. At first, he had difficulty letting anyone get close, but she wore him down. She didn't fear him, and he appreciated the respect and unconditional love she offered.

"And you," he tenderly turned to me. "Did you rest this afternoon?"

I nodded, looking affectionately into my husband's eyes.

"She fell asleep outside for a bit, but she seemed uncomfortable. She kept making faces," Adrianne tattletaled.

Severus looked down at me with gentle concern. Then, dropping to his knees, he said, "Are you giving your mother trouble today?" His hands spanned across my immense belly, the imprint of a tiny foot stretching the skin to meet his palm. "Soon, my child, soon. I can't wait to meet you," he whispered soothingly.

I stroked his silky hair as he placed his cheek on my stomach feeling the baby move, his arm wrapping around my waist in pure comfort.

"Eeww, get a room!" Kevin exclaimed as he emerged from the narrow hall heading for the pool.

"I think they already did," Nick laughed as he followed his brother to the terrace.

Emily reached out to playfully cuff the boy as he dashed past. Severus rose to his feet, his smile glowing through the dirt and tan. He looked more and more Mediterranean every day.

"We ran into Signora Venetos in the village. She asked how you were." Severus took my hand and led us back to the terrace. "I said that you kick in your sleep. Showed her the bruises to prove it," he teased. "She said that it's just the way the baby is positioned. Extra weight on your spine. I wish there was a way to relieve that." He paused, pulling out a chair for me to sit.

"Oh, that's so sweet," Emily gushed at his concern.

"Hardly," Severus deadpanned as he sat beside me. "If she continues, I'm not going to have any shins left."

Colin let out a hoot and slapped his knee. "I can relate! When Emily was carrying Adrianne, I had to sleep in another bed some nights just to get a decent night's rest."

"Good, now I don't feel guilty." Severus glanced sideways at me, his lips twitching playfully at the corners.

"Don't worry, caro." I reached out to light-heartedly tap his knee. "When you're in the other bed, I get the whole bed to myself. Trust me, at this stage, I think I both need and deserve it." I rubbed my belly watching the fabric of the dress ripple as the baby turned.

"That's so cool!" Adrianne smiled as she watched the movement.

As the sun finally ducked behind the mountain, the terrace began to cool, and as the shadows began to stretch across the stone, the dark purple buds that grew by the fence began to glow. Draconus Filiastus, Dragon Weed, my favourite flower. Their light, musky scent floated up from the still hot ground, placing a Protective Charm around the villa and its occupants, easing everyone into a state of peace and serenity. It was so calming. Even the twins who were horsing around in the water climbed out to relax.

"Dinner will be served shortly." Pinky's head popped out of the villa. "Would Mistress prefer to eat inside or outside?" my little elf asked.

I looked at the others for feedback. "Outside, I think. It's cooler."

Pinky bowed back inside, and within a few moments, the tile-topped table was cleared, and a luscious meal of fresh fish and salads was served. Pinky loved having Emily and the family visit. They were the only guests we ever had, and she took pride in making everything memorable for them.

As the meal wound down, a familiar caw echoed from the mountain, followed by two shorter caws. Stark swooped down and perched on the low table by the pool while two other sleek, slightly smaller ravens landed by the pool's edge splashing their wings in the puddles left on the stone.

"And, how are you this evening?" I asked my feathered friend.

_Hot_, he replied. _We stay in the forest as much as we can during the day. It's much cooler there._

"I can imagine. Would you and our family like something to eat? There are some fresh figs and pomegranates," I offered.

_Thank you_, he replied as he signalled to the other birds.

The larger of the two was a bit more wary of me than the smaller one. Stark's mate couldn't understand how I could communicate with them, and although she made an effort to be sociable, I could feel her hesitance. The smaller one was their youngest offspring, and he had no fear whatsoever, just like his father. When Pinky brought out the fruit, I cut it into pieces and spread it on a plate for the ravens, stroking the youngster's head affectionately as he took a fig from my hand. He instinctively knew to trust me, and I hoped that would always be the case.

Emily and the family left the following morning, taking the local bus to the depot and connecting to another bus to take them to the airport. Our little hamlet was off-the-beaten-path, just the way we liked it, and our friends had no qualms about the travel to get here. The seclusion was just as restful for them as it was needed for us.

It was late, and the stars twinkled brightly in the darkened sky. Rolling onto my side, I felt Severus' body mould to mine, his arm reaching over, his hand splaying across my expanded belly. "I know you're going to miss them," he whispered soothingly in my ear as I sniffed back the tears. "Adrianne promised to write and tell which House she was sorted into. I'm sure she'll be anxious to let you in on all the news."

After hearing of his father's escapades, one of Stark's older offspring had volunteered to be our Post raven. I had smiled at the thought, and Adrianne had been thrilled. Stark had puffed his chest proudly. If a bird could smile...

"What did the letter from the Ministry say?" Severus continued.

I cleared my throat. I was still in contact with the Italian Ministry. They knew Severus as Stavros Salvatorini, a relative of the famed alchemist, Enrico Venici Salvatorini, and my new husband. Much of the work we did now, we did together.

"St. Mungo's contacted them. There's talk of the Longbottoms being sent home, out-patient status. The Magpie Potion has finally been proven successful at all levels, even, to some degree, with those affected by Dark magic. They'll never be the same as they were but are functional enough to go home." I rolled onto my back to face my husband. "We've been asked to write an article for _Il Gionale Dei Potions _and_ Potions Today._ Carmen is going to forward the details."

"The Longbottoms, home," Severus sighed in thought. "So, those last improvements worked. Good. However," he rubbed the taut skin of my stomach, "your first concern is for yourself and this child. You're not to wear yourself out."

I smiled proudly and reached to cup his stubbled cheek. "I promise to take care. Ti amo, caro." Kissing him lightly on the lips, I rolled back onto my side and snuggled backward to feel his body against mine. He reached over me again and our fingers laced together. Bringing my left hand to his lips, I could feel him kiss the simple platinum band. I still wore the black and silver band on my little finger, but he had always promised that I would wear his ring on the "proper finger".

Summoning a small orb from its place of honour on the dresser, I watched as it floated across the room. It had been a gift from Severus when we finally arrived in Spain and renewed our vows with the Goddess.

"Don't you ever get tired of listening to it?" he snorted, nuzzling my neck affectionately.

"Never," I whispered as the pale pink orb opened, and the beautiful melody began. And in the comfort of my husband's arms, in the safety of our hide-away home, far from the battle-worn Wizard world of Britain, I listened to the words that filled my soul with absolute contentment and unconditional love.

"_I can't remember when you weren't there, _

_when I didn't care for anyone but you._

_I swear, we've been through everything there is, _

_can't imagine anything we've missed, _

_can't imagine anything the two of us can't do._

_Through the years, you've never let me down, _

_you've turned my life around, _

_the sweetest days I've found I've found with you._

_Through the years, I've never been afraid, _

_I've loved the life we've made, _

_and I'm so glad I stayed right here with you through the years. _

_I can't remember what I used to do, _

_who I trusted, who I listened to before,_

_I swear, you've taught me everything I know, _

_can't imagine needing someone so,_

_but through the years it seems to me I need you more and more._

_Through the years, through all the good and bad, _

_I know how much we had, _

_I've always been so glad to be with you._

_Through the years, it's better every day, _

_you've kissed my tears away, _

_as long as it's okay, I'll stay with you through the years._

_Through the years, when everything went wrong, _

_together we were strong,_

_I know that I belong right here with you._

_Through the years, I've never had a doubt, _

_we'd always work things out,_

_I've learned what life's about by loving you through the years._

_Through the years, you've never let me down, _

_you've turned my life around, _

_the sweetest days I've found I've found with you._

_Through the years, it's better every day,_

_you've kissed my tears away,_

_as long as it's okay I'll stay with you through the years."_

The song "Through the Years" is from Kenny Rogers CD "Love Songs".


End file.
